By All Means
by flawlesspeasant
Summary: Getting a college degree has always been important to small town, shy, eighteen year old Demi. But when she makes a terrible mistake, she has to make a decision. A decision that involves life, love and her ever-important future. A decision that will forever alter the course of her life.
1. School

"Individuals with extreme acrophobia, such as Kelly in the article you were assigned to read, can sometimes go through intense psychological for their phobia, if it's severe enough. For example, someone with acute claustrophobia might be okay in small places whereas a person with glossophobia or acrophobia, in Kelly's case may require intense psychological treatment." Dr. Prince stands in front of us in her very professional dark brown pants and long sleeved blue turtleneck. Her blonde hair sticks to the brim of her forehead from the sweat, but I understand why she'd rather dress warmly.

Even though it's about seventy-three degrees outside, it never fails to be something below freezing in the auditorium. I tap my mint green mechanical pencil against the edge of my floppy, 300-page psychology book and shift my gaze up to the analog wall clock. The long, red seconds hand takes forever to make its way back around the top to the twelve. I lean forward and grab my black and silver shimmery backpack off the floor. I loop the belt-like strap through the hole and shove my book and pencil inside. Dr. Prince strongly dislikes it whenever we pack up early to leave. She's one of those professors that will tell us not to pack up, even though there are only four microseconds left in class. It's a good thing that I sit near the back and I never even so much as draw her attention. Riddle me this: how is it that on the third day of classes during the first semester, she reprimanded me for being "too quiet?"

The thunderous ringing of the bell booms through the classroom, dismissing us finally from the jail cell – I mean, the auditorium. I stand up quickly and sling my backpack over one shoulder, filing into the already long line to get out of the door. "Have a very nice Christmas, and a happy New Year. See you all in January. Be safe!" Dr. Prince shouts at all 200 of us as we quickly leave out of the room.

I'm so glad to be going home. I really need a break from school. My head is spinning, my ears are ringing, I'm tired of taking notes, I'm tired of typing and I'm just sick of learning. Plus, I miss my family, and especially my best friend, Marissa. It sucks how she had to go to Berkeley. We were supposed to go to college together, but when we promised each other that, we weren't even thinking about tuition and what would happen if one of us couldn't afford it. I pull my phone from my pocket and check the time. It's 2:07, which means I should be home somewhere between 3:30 or 4:15, if I don't get caught in traffic.

I shove my phone back inside my pocket and head out into the still-fall air. I keep forgetting that it's still fall, because I consider anything inside the month of December to already be winter. But I don't think the first day of winter officially starts until the 22nd, and it's only the 3rd, so it's safe to say that it's still fall, I think. It's not much of a difference between fall and winter. It's not like we see much snow in Los Angeles or in Oceanside, it just gets chillier and chillier, and if I'm lucky, maybe I'll be able to break out a pair of boots without looking silly.

As soon as I walk outside, the wild wind blows strands of my long, dark brown hair all over. The sounds of the busy, bustling city hum along as I speed up my walk to the student parking lot. I'm one of the very few freshmen on campus that have a car. Everybody else typically catches the bus or hitches a ride with someone else with a car when they want to go home on the weekends. I pass the blue sign with white letters and read it again, like I have 500,000 times before whenever I leave my psychology class. "Now Exiting: Semel Institute for Neuroscience and Human Behavior", it says. I guess signs that tell you where you're going are necessary when dealing with such a large campus like UCLA.

"Hey, Demi! Wait up!" An out-of-breath voice shouts from behind me. I stop mid-walk and turn around to see who's calling me. Carrying a heap of books, walking towards me is my old roommate, Selena. Her hair is blowing just as wildly as mine and her naturally tanned skin is a stinging red color, like she's been hit or something. She used to be my roommate before she moved out and into the same housing arrangement as her boyfriend. Since she moved out, I've been in my dorm alone, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. She didn't want to move out. She really liked me and I liked her, but her boyfriend is a little bit on the crazy side and insisted that they live in the same place, so she got a new roommate and she lives in the same complex as him now. We don't talk much anymore, because we hardly see each other except for during lunch or dinner hours. We aren't majoring in the same thing, so we really don't have any classes together.

"...Hey Selena." I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear and half smile at her. Breathless, she smiles back, hoisting her extremely heavy-looking, brown law book onto her hip, trying to catch her breath. I stare at the fiery red mark on her cheek and imagine that it must hurt. It's a nasty secret to keep, what she's keeping.

"Hey…" She blows out a hard breath. "I was just wondering if I can have a ride home. It'd be a pain to carry this book onto the bus… but if you can't, it's alright." Of course I'll ride her home. Not just because I like her, but because I really feel bad for her. Her face looks like it hurts, and she's so thin that she looks as if her big ass law book will curve her spine if she continues to drag it around.

"Sure. It's no problem. Where do you live?" I motion for her to follow me and we start walking again towards the direction of my car. I never have problems with giving people a ride, it's just that nobody ever asks me. Selena's never even asked me for a ride before. I'm partially glad that she asked, because now I'll know where she lives, and maybe this will let her know that she can ask me for whatever.

"Inglewood, right off the interstate. I'll tell you how to get there." She explains to me. I nod my head and retrieve my keys from my pocket to unlock my car doors. "This… is YOUR car?" She asks, stopping dead in her tracks with an expression on her face that tells me that she doesn't believe me. I guess my car is a little bit nice, but it's not nearly as nice as it could be. It used to be my older sister's, before her boyfriend bought her a canary yellow Volkswagen Beetle. My hand-me-down car is a silver 2011 Mercedes E350 Convertible. It could use a paint job, and one of the back windows gets stuck, plus the sunroof doesn't work, but I guess it's a nice car.

"Yeah… it's a hand-me-down… but it gets me to where I need to be. Put your books in the back." I shove my bag in the backseat and shut the door, opening up the door to the driver's seat. I climb inside, put my seatbelt on and wait for her to get in. She shuts the back door after putting her books on the backseat and gets into the passenger's seat. I'm so glad I took my car to the car wash yesterday; otherwise I would've been so embarrassed to give her a ride. It's usually so dirty in here, my clothes and college papers strung everywhere. It's clean in here for the moment.

I turn the key in the ignition and back out of the parking lot. I turn the heat up a little, because it's cold in here. "I have to stop and get gas at the Get-Go up the street, okay? My gas light's on." I turn out onto the street and speed up along the road to the gas station.

"Here…" She smuggles her hand underneath her seatbelt and into her jeans pocket and hands me a crisp $20 bill. "For gas money…"

"…Shut up." I wave my hand at her and put it back on the steering wheel.

"No, Demi. Here. I'm using your gas… and gas ain't cheap. Just take it and put it in the gas tank." She tries to force the money on me but I still refuse it.

"Selena, keep your money. I don't need it. Inglewood's only 20 minutes away, it's not out of the way or anything. Plus, I have a gas card. My dad lets me use his gas card whenever I need to fill up the tank. It's fine. Just keep it." I adjust the heat and turn slowly into the gas station.

"Okay." She finally puts the money back into her pocket. "Thanks for the ride, though. I really appreciate it."

"It's not a problem. I'll be right back. You want anything from in here? A drink or something?" I offer. I keep forgetting that her drive is much shorter than mine. I have an hour and a half to go before I get into Oceanside, whereas Inglewood is really only 20 minutes away. But, I would've felt lousy if I had eaten and drunk in front of her without even offering her anything.

"Just a can of Pepsi, please. I'll pay for it." She starts reaching in her pocket again, but I stop her.

"Will you just keep your money? It's fine, Selena. Really, it is. I got it." I slide out of the car and walk into the station. I go immediately back to the fridge section, grab her can of Pepsi and a bottle of SmartWater for myself. I grab a small box of Cheez-Its and a pack of strawberry Pop-Tarts for myself also. I'm starving, and even though I know that my mom is probably cooking this big dinner for me, it's going to be an hour and a half before I can even eat it.

"I'd like $40 on pump one, too sir." I put all the food on the counter and hand him the gas card for the gas. I watch him intently as he rings up all the junk food I bought. He's not a very attractive man. He has a white t-shirt on with stains on it and ungroomed facial hair, but I'm trying not to judge him.

He swipes the gas card and totals up the food. "It'll be $12.19." He grumbles in his raspy voice. He smells like cigarettes. I rummage through my pockets and hand him a $20 bill. I just want to get out of his presence. "You need a bag?" He asks. I shake my head at him and take all my things, including my change and hurry out of there.

I put all of the food into the car and start pumping the gas. $40 usually fills up my tank. I put the pump on auto-fill and wait for it to fill up all the way. I lean against the pump while I wait. I wonder if the gas station guy ever had a girlfriend in his life. If he has, it's a pretty sad situation when I can't even get a boyfriend in college. I pick at my hangnail and my mind switches tactics. I begin to think about Selena's red face. I know how she got that red face, and I'd never dare to tell anyone. Selena and I aren't the best of friends, like me and Marissa are, but she told me about how she gets her red faces. And I told her something about me that even Marissa doesn't know. I think that Selena and I could've been very good friends if she never moved out. The gas pump beeps softly, letting me know that it's finished and interrupting my thoughts. I pull the pump out of my tank and close the door. I get back into the car with Selena and start my car again.

"Where do you live, Demi? I don't think you ever told me…" She asks immediately after I start the car. She must have premeditated the question. I loosen my grip on the steering wheel and turn back onto the highway.

"Oceanside. About an hour and a half away from campus." I push on my gas pedal a little harder. "And yes, it really is like the name. It's basically directly on the ocean. I guess it's a beautiful city." I shrug. Oceanside isn't much, in my opinion. It's a boring little city where all people do is fish and surf and sell bait.

"I've heard of it. I hear it's really pretty. Do you live in like… a super nice house or something?"

"No. I mean….I don't think my house is all that nice. It's big, if that's what you mean. But it kind of has to be big. There's five of us that live there, so it has to be big. And we have a pool, but it's so pointless to have a pool whenever we can just walk to the beach in three steps. It's not that nice, but it's big, I guess." I shrug again.

"You should try living in Inglewood. It's so boring… you would probably die. And you're so lucky to have a big family."

"Are you an only child?" I stop at the first traffic light and rummage through my CDs while traffic is held up.

"No. I have a baby sister named Gracie. She's a baby, though. She's only five months old, so I might as well be an only child." She sighs. I never realized how different me and Selena's lives are, yet we're so alike. "Got any music?"

"I'm looking for one of my CDs…" I mumble. "I'll just turn on my Sirius radio." I give up on finding the CD and just turn on my satellite radio. The only thing about my satellite radio is that there are commercials. I turn the volume way up and listen to the music on full blast.

"This is my shit." Selena giggles and starts singing. "I used to bite my tongue and hold my breath, scared to rock the boat and make a mess. So I sat quietly, agreed politely. I guess I forgot I had a choice, I let you push me past the breaking point. I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything."

I like this song too, but I don't know all the words to it. I love this song, though.

Selena continues singing, "You held me down but I got up, already brushing off the dust. You hear my voice, you hear that sound. Like thunder gonna shake the ground. You held me down but I got up. Get ready cause I had enough. I see it all, I see it now…"

This is my favorite part (and the only part I know) so I join in. "I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter dancin' through the fire cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roooooaaar louder… louder than a lion cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roooooar."

I push on the gas again when the light turns green. "So how hard is law school?" I start a little more conversation with her, because it would be a little awkward if we just drove the whole way without talking, just singing. And I'm a little curious about law school too. I heard that it was really hard.

"Oh my goodness, Demi. It's terrible. I just don't get some things. Like… I don't get the double jeopardy thing. And I don't get Amicus Curiae. I think about changing my major every fucking day. I just don't get it. I thought I loved the law and stuff but I just don't get it anymore." She chuckles and blushes slightly. "…What about you? Neuroscience can't be easy either, right?"

"Oh, it's hard. My psychology class is the only one that's killing me right now. I just have a hard time paying attention, you know?" I sigh. "But it's really interesting. Knowing how the brain works and stuff. I don't want to be a neurosurgeon or anything, but it's really cool. I don't want to operate on brains or anything, I just want to be a behavioral specialist."

"So like… are you learning why people do what they do? Like… why people go and shoot up schools and stuff?"

"Something like that." I nod.

"That's so cool." She laughs a little bit. "So…. I'll be the lawyer that puts his ass in jail… and you'll be the one that tells everyone why he shot up the school."

I laugh a little bit too. "Yeah, we'll be the ass-busting duo." I turn a corner and ride down a long road. "Now where at?" I pass the sign that says "Welcome to Inglewood." I kind of wish that Selena lived further than 20 minutes away, because I could use a buddy to finish off my long drive with.

"Right up this road right here. Just go here…" She points to a road lined with spruce trees. It's been a while since I've seen trees like this. In Oceanside, all there is are palm trees. "Then make this left… and it's the only brick house on this road." I follow her instructions and look along the road for a red bricked house. I stop right across the street from the only one I see on the road.

It's a decent looking house. It's small with white shutters and a green door. It must be ranch-style with everything on one floor, because it's a rather short house. There's a basketball court in the driveway and a Jeep Grand Cherokee parked in an open garage. I kind of like her house more than mine, even though it's about ten times smaller. It's just more homey-looking.

"Thanks again for the ride, Demi. I really appreciate it. Really…." She opens up the car door. "…Have a nice holiday… and text me sometime or something."

"No problem, Selena. You have a good holiday too… and uh… if you want a ride back… after the break… just let me know. I'll pick you up…." I look down at the time. It's 3:45. "Tell your folks I said hi…"

"Yours too." She nods once and gets out of the car. She shuts the door and I watch as she walks up to her house. I make sure she gets in the door safe, and start back towards the direction of my house. I can't get home fast enough.

* * *

"I don't wanna lose you now… I'm lookin' right at the other half of me. The vacancy that sat in my heart is a space that now you hold. Show me how to fight for now, and I tell you baby it was easy coming back into you once I figured it out. You were right here all along. It's like you're my mirror… my mirror starin' back at me. I couldn't get any bigger with anyone else beside of me. And now it's clear as this promise that we're making two reflections into one. Cause it's like you're my mirror. My mirror starin' back at me. Starin' back at me." I stop singing and pull my car into the driveway of my house.

My ass hurts from sitting down so long, and I have a bit of a headache. I can't wait to eat and take a nap. I haven't seen my family since Thanksgiving break a couple weeks ago. They probably miss me, but the truth of the matter is that I didn't really miss them all that much. I haven't really had the time to miss them, you know?

I leave my bags in the car, lock it up, and walk up the steps to my family's enormous estate. We really do have a huge house, but I've lived in it for so long that I'm immune to it. I grab my lanyard from around my neck, move my UCLA Student ID to the side and put my house key into the lock. It sounds bad, but I'm already wondering when I can call Marissa and ask her to come over. My mom will probably bitch at me and talk about how I need to just spend some time with the family, though.

"Hey….. I'm home…." I look around inside the house. My mom always has kept a really nice house; it's something she takes pride in. The last time I was in this house, it was all decorated nicely for the fall holidays, and it smelled heavily of pumpkin spice candles. This time, it's decorated up in a Christmas fashion, our big Christmas tree standing in the front window of the house lit up and looking pretty. It smells like gingersnaps and peppermint candies and it just feels good to be home.

"…Mom!... Dad… Dall… Maddie… I'm home!" I yell again, wandering into the kitchen to see what my mom whipped up for dinner. I open the oven once I see it's on. It looks like she's baking manicotti. Manicotti is my favorite, but I'm a little bit pissed that it's not already finished. On a glass plate wrapped in saran-wrap are gingersnap and sugar cookies with little Christmas characters embedded in the dough. I walk to the back door and look out. All of my dogs, Bailey, Bella, Bentley and Oliver are all laying around outside. Oliver's running in the yard with my sister throwing a Frisbee for him to catch.

I open the door and step out onto the patio. "Maddie!" I call her name. She holds the Frisbee instead of throwing it and looks up at me. Her eyes light up. It's 2013, and Maddie's been with me for nine years now, yet she still squeals and runs to hug me whenever I'm in her sight.

"Demi! Demi!" She drops the little green Frisbee and runs to me. She gives me a tight hug around my waist.

"Hi, baby." I rub her hair and accept her hug. "Where are mommy, daddy and Dallas?"

"They're downstairs in the game room. The game's on." She opens up the door again and goes in the house. I follow her downstairs to the game room, where my family spends a lot of time. I wonder why they wouldn't watch the game in the living room if they knew I was coming. The basement is sound proof, so I guess that's why they didn't hear me. "Guys, Demi's home." Maddie says just as we hit the landing of the steps.

"Hey…" I comb through my hair with my fingers and sit on the arm of the couch next to my dad. "Hey daddy… mommy. Dal."

"Hi honey. How was your drive?" My mom pats the part of the couch next to her. I stand up and go sit beside her, sighing, realizing how tired I am.

"It was good. Long and tiring. I drove my friend to Inglewood before I came home." I lie down on my mom's lap and put my feet up on my dad's lap. My dad pulls the strings of my shoelaces and he pulls my raggedy black converse off and throws them down on the floor. "I see you're making manicotti…"

"Yeah, it should be done in about fifteen minutes or so. You hungry?" My mom combs through my hair with her fingers too, and my dad rubs my feet. "There's cookies up on the stove. Me and Dally made them together."

"Yeah, I saw." Speaking of Dallas, I wonder why she hasn't said anything to me. I prop myself up on my elbows slightly and look over at her, lying down on the loveseat. I guess she's asleep, but that's unusual for Dallas to fall asleep during the Cowboy game. "She's sleep?"

"Yeah, she hasn't been feeling so great. You know, it's getting down to the nitty-gritty with her. She spent all night on the toilet last night, so I wouldn't be surprised if it's soon." Mom reaches over and puts her hand on Dallas's cheek. "I hope it's soon. I can't wait for this man to come into my life." Mom chuckles and stops touching Dallas before she wakes her.

I laugh too. "I hope it's while I'm here on break. Can we give her some castor oil?"

"No, Demi. Goodness gracious, you're trying to kill them both." She shakes her head and giggles. "We're just gonna wait it out. The old fashioned way."

"Okay, but I'm getting impatient." I smile and sit up on the couch. I feel so tempted to go to sleep. "I'm gonna wake her up… I wanna say hi." I get off the couch and walk over to the loveseat where Dallas is asleep. I pull her blanket off her slightly. She's wearing a baggy t-shirt and Hello Kitty pajama pants. Her t-shirt is rising up slightly, exposing her swollen belly. "Hi Carlo… Come out so Auntie Demi can meet you…" I press my lips to her stomach and rub it softly. "Hi Carlo." I stand on my knees and tap Dallas's arm. "Dal… wake up. Wake up, it's Dem." I shake her carefully.

She opens her eyes up and mumbles. "I told them to wake me up when you got home…" She turns and stretches, clearly still in a half daze. "Ugh…. I gotta pee." She yawns and rubs her eyes. "This boy is pushing on my bladder… I'm so ready to be un-pregnant."

I laugh a little. "I'm ready for you to be un-pregnant too." I help her up off the loveseat. "Where's Rob?"

"He's… at work." She stretches again. "He's working 8-7:30. He'll be home in a little while."

"You tell him thanks for sending me that money last week?"

"Yeah, I told him."

"Dallas, Demi, Madison and Eddie…. Dinner's done! Come and eat!" Mom hollers down the steps from upstairs in the kitchen.

I'm so ready to eat.

And I'm so glad to be home.


	2. Let Me Explain

"Is it weird to have your stomach all… stretched like that?" Pressing the tips of my soft, clammy fingers to my sister's hard, bare abdomen, I ponder. Her skin is still smooth and flaw-free, almost as if she isn't really pregnant at all, just as if a beach ball is buried secure underneath her layer of skin. I imagine that Dallas is a freak of nature, because she hasn't gained more than ten pounds, yet my nephew is sitting at a healthy six pounds and approximately twenty inches long. Compared to what my mom's stomach looks like, Dallas has been blessed with the lack of stretch-marks and ugly, flabby skin. Granted, my mom's had three of us as opposed to one, but it's still the same thing I suppose.

She holds her baggy white t-shirt up for me, proudly showing off the profound baby-bump. "Nah." She shakes her head. "Just weird whenever I'm laying down, watching TV and an elbow flies across my stomach or something. That's the weird thing." She grabs her hair and moves it off her stomach for me to keep getting closer looks. My sister could use a haircut a little more than I could, I think.

"Well I'm glad you're having a baby. Mom would go crazy if she never got grandkids." I push off with my hands on my knees and stand up straight. I sprawl out on Dallas's bed and flick through a pregnancy magazine. Pregnancy and babies make me cringe. Don't get me wrong; I'd still love to meet my little nephew and hopefully spoil him once I get a job on campus, but I don't want a baby. Not now, not ever.

"Oh, Demi. You say these things now. I bet you'll be married… with babies of your own by the time you're thirty. Just give yourself some time." She sits down cross-legged next to me on the bed and rubs my lower back, just above my butt. Dallas is going to be a great mother. She used to rub my back until I fell asleep all the time. She always massages my back dimples, for some reason.

"Well I wouldn't count on that. I don't want to have babies, and it'll be kind of hard for me to get married if it's still illegal, Dallas." I shut the magazine and throw it to the side, lying face down on the bed enjoying the massage I'm getting. My family all get it. They understand that I'm a little bit different from Dallas and everyone else in my family except my uncle. My uncle and I were the only "different" ones. It's been two years since he shot himself, and I still think about him every single day as my inspiration. Part of me understands why he would think there's no other way out.

"You'll find someone, Dems." Dallas moves her hands from my back and up to my hair. I close my eyes as she begins weaving a braid into my messy lengths. "You see anyone interesting at school? Any boys? Or… girls?" She stumbles over it, but I know that she doesn't care. She was the first person in my family that I told, and I'm certain that she doesn't think of me any differently because of it.

"…Nope. Nobody." I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her for suggesting the "B" word, but then again, I remember that it IS in fact a big adjustment to her as well as the rest of my family. "Well… there is this one girl. And she's really pretty… She's hot, and she was my roommate… but she moved out to be with her boyfriend… and she's not… you know…" I'm still not fully comfortable with using the "L" word or the "G" word, so "you know" will have to suffice. "But I couldn't imagine doing anything with her. She's like Marissa… really pretty and really hot, but not someone I'd go after."

"Oooh. What's her name, babes?" She ties a rubber band around the end of my braid to keep it from unraveling.

"Selena. But I'm not her type. And I can't imagine doing anything with her. I couldn't even tell her… because I was afraid she'd think I was weird and stuff and I just wanted to be her friend." I sit up straight on the bed and sigh. It's about time I finally feel comfortable enough. If you've ever had to deal with something like this, then I know you understand me. If you've never had to deal with it, you cannot possibly even imagine it.

"You'll find someone, Dems." Dallas repeats herself and nudges me in a loving manner. I come to Dallas with just about anything, but I just can't imagine talking and discussing with her about making out with a girl or anything of that nature. I mean, sure; she has asked me about my experiences and I have told her about my experiences, but it's always weird, because she always tries to relate to me with her own experiences and her experiences always include Rob, her boyfriend and penises. Sometimes, I think I enjoy hearing about males and I find a sexy boy here and there, but then I see another female and I just get all mixed up when I remember that I'm physically attracted to them. I wasn't even sure (and I'm still not 100%) of my own sexuality until about last year sometime, so I don't really expect my family to be all willing and embracing. Because let's be honest, that's not at all realistic.

"So…" I'm desperate to change the topic. In fact, desperate is an understatement. "I'll babysit Carlo anytime when I'm home from school. Anytime." Oliver jumps up on the bed and curls up on Dallas's pillow. I find that it's easier to talk after an awkward conversation if you have a distraction to preoccupy your mind. I pick Oliver up effortlessly, like he's a football and hold him up in the air with one hand. "But I don't do shitty diapers, if you don't mind."

Dallas laughs the kind of laugh that sounds like a drowned out "s" and gets off her bed. "Between you and Rob, I'm going to be the only one changing his dirty diapers. Rob says dirty diapers make him nervous, and you just said you don't do them. What kind of babysitter are you going to be?"

I mumble the unspoken form of "I don't know" with a shrug and return Oliver back to the pillow. "I just don't want children. Ever. And it's not like I have to worry about them…"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because." I answer in a tone that lets her know that I think she's a bit retarded for not picking this one up. Then again, Dallas is a little bit slow with everything. "How am I ever going to have a baby, Dallas? Spontaneous reproduction? I can't push anything out if I don't like what's supposed to go in."

"…Oh." She shrugs and turns around to grab clothes from her dresser. "I'm about to go take a bath. My back is aching."

"…That sounds like a good idea." I sigh and hop down off her bed too. I love the showers back in my dorm, but there's nothing like a nice, hot shower in my old bathroom. I walk down our long hallway and to my room. I open up my pink door and step into my room. My room looks exactly how I left it. It's multicolored, no specific theme besides zebra print. My purple and black zebra print bedding looks like it's remained untouched since the last time I slept in it. My bumblebee pillow pet rests on top of my main body-pillow. The furry pink rug next to my bed is perfectly ruffled upwards, and it smells heavily of my favorite Fresh-n-Clean PINK perfume.

I guess you could say that I'm not a typical… lesbian. I hate putting a label on myself, but I am what I am, I guess. But I'm not like the stereotypical one. I would never dare to cut my hair short and spiky. I'd rather wear pretty lace and nylon underwear, as opposed to boys' boxer briefs. I love to wear tight jeans, I don't like to sag my pants. I don't wish I were a boy, I like being a girl. And I have a closet full of girly clothes. I can occasionally dress a bit… gay-ish, I suppose. Sometimes, I prefer a pair of Nikes over a pair of Sperrys, or I like baggy sweatpants and underarmour shirts as opposed to PINK sweatshirts and Miss-Me Jeans, but it depends on the day… I guess.

It's 2013, I'm eighteen years old and I still don't feel like coming out to my parents is something that I should have done. I feel like they'd be happier if I was more like Dallas. They say they love me and I think they do, but I can always sense that little bit of disappointment there. I just wish I would've kept it to myself a little while longer.

I unzip my jacket and throw it on my bed, take off my jeans and underwear, wad them up and throw them into my basket. I pull my lime green sports bra over my head and throw it in my basket too. I always surprise myself when I take my bras off, because I have these decently sized, jiggly 32C-cup boobs that I always forget are there, through the sports bras.

I walk naked past my closet and into my bathroom. It sounds a little weird given the circumstances, but my favorite thing about my house is my bathroom. It's not the pool, the game room, the plasma TVs, the basketball court or the liquor cabinet that my parents lock up downstairs. It's in fact, my bathroom.

I flick on the light switch and sit on the edge of my bathtub. I mix equal parts hot water and equal parts cold water and pull the knob to turn my shower spray on. Standing in the hot shower water, I realize how incredibly tired I am. It's only about 7:30, but I think I'm going to get into my pajamas, go eat a second helping of dinner and go to bed for the night. I promised Madison that I'd play Assassin's Creed with her tonight, but I'm on break for six weeks. I'll play with her some other time, when I don't feel like passing out from exhaustion.

I use my shower scrubby to wash my back. I kind of wish I had someone special. I wish I had someone to spoil on Valentine's Day, someone to call my girlfriend, someone to be with. But then again, I don't think I'm too comfortable with bringing a girl home to my parents just yet.

I reluctantly turn off the water and step out of my shower onto my memory-foam bathmat. I wish I could just fall asleep right here, but I don't want my parents to have the misfortune of scraping my naked body up off the floor, so I just take my fluffy white towel and wrap it around my body. I go back into my room and throw on some pajamas and head downstairs to the living room. I sometimes wonder what my family's normal routine is like without me.

"Demi, there's hot tea on the stove, honey." My mom looks up from her iPad and looks at me. "You sounded a little hoarse today, are you getting sick?"

"Yeah, I think so. It's been going around campus." I walk into the living room and sit down beside her. I was going to call Marissa to see what she's doing tonight, but I'd really rather just sit at home with my family.

"You know, mono goes around on those college campuses like crazy. Watch who you drink off of, baby." Mom puts her iPad down and rubs me on my back. I lie my head on her forearm and rest. My dad is watching Game of Thrones, which means we all have to watch it. "I just took Maddie to get her third grade shots yesterday morning, and she was due for a flu shot. I'm gonna take you to get one too."

"Okay." I yawn really big and sigh. "My student advisor's been buggin' me about turning in that financial aid form. So you and daddy need to fill it out before I go back. And I start soccer conditioning the week after I get off break, so I need that physical form too."

"Okay sweetie." She presses her lips to my forehead and rubs my butt like I'm a baby again. My mom's always been that way, which actually gets on my nerves a little bit because what eighteen year old wants their mom rubbing on their butt? She's done this since I was little, so I don't hold it too much against her. "Who was that girl that you rode home?"

"Selena. My old roommate." I watch her hand as she reaches over on the end table and grabs a Twizzler. I watch as she puts it into her mouth. She knows that Twizzlers are my favorite. I watch her like a hawk.

Out the corner of her eye, she glances down at me with a sly chagrin. "Can I help you?"

"Why are you hiding the Twizzlers?!" I open my mouth up and look at her.

She laughs and puts one in my mouth. "Here. I knew if you saw them, you were gonna eat them all." She smacks my butt twice, softly. "Don't eat too many, bubble butt. I don't want you to rot your teeth out. And I've got some monkey bread baking in the oven too, so I don't want you to have too much sugar."

Monkey bread. I LOVE monkey bread. My mom is the best cook. Literally, she's the BEST. I mean, she has a culinary degree, so she should be pretty good at cooking, but her food is orgasmic. "Mom do you think –"

"MOM!" I'm interrupted by the shrieking of my sister from upstairs. God, Dallas sure can yell her ass off. "MOM, I THINK MY WATER BROKE!"

I spring up off the couch like someone just lit a firecracker under my ass. Oh my god!

Carlo's coming!

Damn. I'm sleepy. But I don't think I'm going to be getting any sleep tonight.

What a first day home, I tell ya.


	3. Shots

"So how's school?" My grandma continues crocheting a blue blanket that's already flowing on the floor as we sit in the waiting room. The waiting room smells like it's been freshly painted and the carpets look so clean that I could probably eat off of them. On the cream-colored walls hang pictures of babies in the womb and newborns posing all cute.

"It's good…. I got an A on my last psych test." I pick my bright pink nail polish off. I talk to my grandma almost every single day, but it still means a lot more when we talk in person. My grandma is a whopping 93 years old, so she's no spring chicken. She's generally very healthy, though. I don't imagine having to bury her for a while, but it still bothers me a little whenever I go a while without talking to her. "And I have the highest grade in my literature class…"

"That's excellent, honey." She leans over to me and kisses me on my cheek. I redden and smile. "How are you doing up there… away from home?" She picks up and continues her work on the blanket. "Are you staying focused, Demetria?"

I nod. "Yeah. It's getting easier up there." I stop picking my polish off and look around. "I wonder if she's done…" I move to the side slightly, careful not to wake up Madison whom just so happens to be fast asleep on my shoulder. I would know if Dallas was done if I would have stayed in the room, but I didn't want to. Only four people are allowed in the birthing room at one time, so I just gave my pass to Rob's mom. There are just some things that I don't need to see, and my nephew coming out of my sister's crotch is one of them.

"Your mom said she'd come get us when she's done, so I guess she isn't just yet. What's his name gonna be? Carlos, she said?"

"Carlo. Without an S. Rob picked that name. Dallas picked out his middle name, but she's not telling us what it is yet." I move again, still careful of Madison. "Isn't Maddie too young to be in the birthing room? What are we gonna do with her when we can go back? We can't just leave her, can we?"

"I'll sit with her while you go back until Robert's mom comes out. Then she can sit with her." Gram nudges her glasses up on her nose and switches her dark blue yarn to light blue yarn. My grandmother always says our names with the most syllables possible. She and my grandpap used to live in Italy together, and apparently, saying names with the most syllables possible is a sign of respect over there. It's a habit for her, I suppose. So, to my gram, I'm never just "Demi." To her, I am always Demetria. And since my mom, Dallas and Madison don't have full forms, they're all "Dallas Leigh", "Dianna Lee" and "Madison Lee" to her.

We both get quiet for a moment. I pull my phone from my pocket and check the time. It's 8:00 in the morning. I do the math in my head. We've been here at this hospital for… thirteen hours. I went to sleep for a while, but these chairs aren't that comfortable. I shift my eyes up to the TV, which has been on the same station ever since I've been here. The Doctor Oz show is on now.

The door to the waiting room opens up suddenly. I turn my head completely around to see who it is. I gasp when I see her and spring up, sorry because I'm sure that I woke Madison up but I don't really care right now. "Riss!" I run over to the door and throw my arms around her. "I told you to text me when you got here!" I feel like I haven't seen my best friend in a decade, even though it's really only been three weeks. I missed her so freaking much.

"My phone died in the car on the way down here." Her dark brown hair sticks to her forehead in clumps. It must be raining outside, because her entire grey shirt is speckled with dark raindrop marks. "Did she have him yet?" She struggles to catch her breath. She must have rushed here.

"No… my mom hasn't been out to get us yet." I look around again. "Is it raining outside?"

"Yeah. And I'm fucking starving. I rolled out of bed and sped here like a bat out of hell." She grabs her hair-tie and pulls on it, sending her long hair tumbling down around her chest. She wrings it out and throws it back up into a wet bun. "You wanna grab something to eat after we leave here? I have a boatload to tell you anyway."

"Yeah, sure. Panera or something?"

"Panera's great. I'm in the mood for soup anyway. And their bread bowls are my fave." She just keeps raving over food. She really must be hungry.

I giggle and check my phone again. "We'll probably be outta here by like… ten or eleven." I rock back on my feet, and almost fall flat on my ass at the sound of the door opening once again. This time, when I look over, it's my mom with a red face. Finally! "Well?!" I ask her immediately. Her face and eyes are so red. My mom's such a crybaby sometimes.

"Carlo's here. He's seven pounds even. Twenty two inches long. He's beautiful, of course." She sniffs and wipes her face again. "Demi, Dallas is asking for you, so I'll take you back first. Then I'll take you, Marissa. When they move her up to the suite, we'll all be allowed in her room at once. But she's still in the birthing room so only four people at once for now."

"Okay… Come on. I wanna see him." I say, anxiously. I can't wait to see what he looks like. I can't wait to see if he's cute. I can't wait to see if he looks like Rob or Dallas. My mom sniffles again and hands me a yellow and black lanyard with the word "VISITOR" on it. I take it and put it around my neck. "Whose place am I taking?" I ask. If there are only four people allowed back at one time, then I have to be taking somebody's place.

"Rob's mom went to go meet his dad. So you're taking her spot." She leads me down a long hallway. Through the entire hallway, I can hear the sounds of newborns screaming and crying behind the doors. At the end of the hallway is a security guard dressed in all black. I like how secure this hospital is, because I always hear stories on the news about crazy people stealing newborn babies. My mom slides her ID in the key slot to enter Dallas's room.

I step in and look around. There's blood splattered all over the floor, which I think is disgusting. I hear the rhythmic beeping of monitors that Dallas is hooked up to. I walk slowly to her bedside. She looks really tired, and she's very sweaty. Her hair is down at her sides, but her forehead is really sweaty. Surprisingly to me, she isn't holding the baby.

"Hey Dems." She smiles at me and holds her arms out tiredly. I smile back and lean down to hug her, wary of the needles in her arms. "Sorry it took me so long to get him out." She chuckles and rubs my back.

"…Did it hurt?" I ask her. I look over at the chair next to her bed. Rob is sitting in it, holding a little white bundle and staring down at it. He looks so in love with the bundle.

"It hurt like HELL, Dems. LIKE HELL." Her whole demeanor changes when she tells me how badly it hurt. "Hey, babe… let Demi hold him. Let her take him for a minute." She tells Rob. I walk over to where he's sitting and hold my arms out. He looks like he might pounce on me, but he lifts up and hands the baby to me.

I finally get a good look at him, and oh my GOD he's so cute! He doesn't look like either one of them. He has a bunch of hair on his head. It's all black and it's really thick and straight. He has a lot of color to him, too. He looks like he has a tan. His little nose is really small and he's covering his face with his hands. He's adorable. "Hey Carlo… Hey buddy. Happy birthday…" I press my lips down to his forehead. "He looks like a little monkey…"

"I know. He has all that hair on his head and stuff. And his arms are hairy too. He's cute. He's my baby…" Dallas smiles while talking about him.

"What's his middle name?" I ask, holding his hand with my finger in his. The door to the room opens up again, but this time a nurse walks in. She puts a tray with little tubes on it down on the incubator bed. It looks like he's about to get shots. "Why were you keeping it a secret?"

"Well… because I'm not sure yet. I thought that… I dunno… maybe you can be his godmother or something." Dallas shrugs like it's nothing. She just asked me to be his GOD MOM. "And I wanted him to be named after his godmother…" She acts like she hasn't been planning this for the longest time ever. "I think his middle name is Dmitri. Carlo Dmitri." She shrugs again.

I start to scream, but I catch my scream in my throat, for risk of waking up my new godchild. "Seriously, Dal? You're gonna name him after me? SERIOUSLY?" I shake my head and stare down at him again. "Y…you know that I don't want to have kids… but if I did want kids, you would be my kids' godmother too… you know that right?"

She nods. "I know, Dems."

"I'm gonna steal this little guy from you real quick…" The nurse says, holding her arms out to me. I hand Carlo over to her and watch as she lies him down under the incubator and takes his blanket off. Carlo still doesn't budge. I kind of want him to cry, just so I can hear what it sounds like.

"Did he cry when he came out, Dal?"

"A little screaming here and there, but honestly no. He stopped crying after they put him on my chest." She motions to her chest, where I just now notice that there is a blotch of red blood stains on her gown from him.

"You're skinny again…" I giggle, walking over to her and pushing a finger down onto her newly flat stomach.

"I know!" She laughs back.

I watch the nurse some more as she starts examining Carlo. He's actually really small. And he's perfect, if I do say so myself.

* * *

"I already know what I want. I want a cheese and broccoli soup in a bread bowl." Marissa sits down across from me at our table. She piles her college books beside us and I sit my measly little psychology book down beside hers. This is sort of a tradition for us. Every time we see each other on college breaks, we go to Panera and do a little schoolwork while we catch up.

"I think I want a sandwich with my soup." I flick through the menu. "So how's Berkeley? Anything new?"

"No, not really. Same old, same old. Classes are long as hell… my roommate's an asshole." She takes her jacket off and leans across the table. "My roommate is such an ass, Demi. All she does is blast music at ten in the morning. I'm still sleeping at ten!" She rolls her eyes. "So what about UCLA? Anything new there?"

"Not at all." I sigh and close my menu, waiting for a waitress to come over and take our orders. "So what's going on with you and that guy? Travis, right?"

She blushes. "Ooooh…. Travis. Travis…" She puts her head down and smiles.

"You did it, didn't you?!" I guess.

"…Once or twice!"

"MARISSA! YOU HARDLY KNOW HIM!... did you use protection!?"

"No…. no… he… he pulled out, but…." She keeps smiling.

"….Oh my goodness. You're gonna end up pregnant. This is why I stick with girls. Guys are too complicated and you don't have to worry about getting pregnant with a girl…" I shake my head.

"Oh, Demi." She rolls her eyes playfully. "When's the last time gotten it? You probably need it!"

"I'm perfectly fine, thanks."

"Demi, you need a penis. Period. You really need it. A vibrator can't give you all the satisfaction. Get a dick. Okay? Get a DICK."

"Eww! Penises are gross!" I cringe at the thought of it. I'm just not into guys. I like girls. Girls and vibrators are perfectly fine with me, not meaning to sound gross or anything. "I'm a lesbian, Marissa. I don't want penis. I've never had sex with a guy, and I'm perfectly fine with that."

The bell rings in the restaurant, signaling that someone has just entered. I look up to see who it is. It's some guy wearing camouflage pants, heavy army boots and a dark blue ROTC shirt. He looks like he's either in the service or he knows someone that is in the service. Whatever, I don't know him.

"Oooh. He's cute." Marissa looks over at him. I roll my eyes and look at him too. He isn't ugly, but I don't think he's cute or anything. His hair is all messy and short and he is really hairy. He's not ugly, but… no. Not for me.

"Come on, Demi. Let me get you with that guy. Come on…"

"Marissa, NO. I don't like boys!"

"DEMI!"

"MARISSA."

"Whatever." She gives it up, and I'm glad.

I just DON'T LIKE BOYS.


	4. Normal

"You ready to leave yet?" I push my cup of coffee to the side and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "I have to go back to the hospital, so I need to get going soon." I start to pack up my bag of books and throw my hi-lighters into the front compartment.

"Yeah, in a minute. Let me finish off this pie." Marissa cuts through her slice of apple pie with her fork and shoves it into her mouth. I let her finish eating and keep writing down the notes my professor told me to recopy over the break for psychology. It seems like psych is always the only class I have homework for. I never have homework for my sociology or pre-med classes.

"So when you and Travis did it… did he… you know?" I grab my pink hi-lighter back out of my bag and hi-light a section of my definitions. I don't really want to know the answer to this question, but it seems reasonable to ask considering that Marissa and I are so different on this level.

"Yeah. But he pulled out like right before he did." She licks a crumb of pie off her thumb and snickers. "I took like… six pregnancy tests after, and they all came back negative. Plus, I'm on my period right now. So I just got lucky."

"Lucky isn't even the word." I roll my eyes and keep busily scribbling my notes from one notebook into the other. "If you had gotten pregnant, would you have kept it?"

"Mhm." She nods. "I couldn't imagine giving my baby up for adoption or getting an abortion, so I'd have no other choice. But you know my mom… she'd murder me." She pushes her plate to the side. "But I'm going to eventually have kids. I want a big family… like four kids." She seems confident, like that's what she knows she wants in life. "What about you, Dem?"

I shrug. "I guess I just want to be happy in life. I don't want kids, but I want to get married someday. It's 2013, and gay marriage is still illegal, so I don't think that'll happen for me." I sigh. "Truth be told, Riss…" I feel myself getting a little emotional. "I wish I could meet a guy. Just so I could be normal. I wish I could meet a guy that I found attractive. I really just wanna be normal. So I can get married and stuff one day."

"You ARE normal, Dems. It doesn't matter if you like a boy or a girl. Love is love, you know? I wouldn't give up just yet. We're both still young. Maybe gay marriage will be legalized soon. And you'll find a girl to marry out there. Don't force yourself to like a guy just because you want to get married."

"…Thanks." I sigh again and shake my head.

"I'm gonna go ahead to the bathroom for a second. I gotta pee." Marissa takes another sip of her watered down lemonade and gets up from her seat. It's a good thing that Panera doesn't have strict closing hours, because when Marissa and I come here, we always stay for a few hours. I nod at her and continue writing down my psychology notes. It's a little pathetic that it's my second day being home, and I'm already doing homework. I'm such a lame.

I break off a piece of my cinnamon roll and eat it. I think about what Marissa said, and just hope that she's right. I want to get married someday. I want to have a wife, living in a nice house somewhere away from here. But if this whole gay marriage thing doesn't get legalized, I don't have anything to hope for. I wish I could find a man that I'm attracted to. I'm not attracted to any boys… but I hope it's possible. I just want to be normal.

I break off another piece of my cinnamon roll and eat it. I veer my mind away from the fact that I'm abnormal, and start thinking about Carlo. He's so cute! With his long hair and his little pug nose, he's just adorable! I can't wait to get back to the hospital and hold him. I still can't believe that Dallas wants me to be his godmother. That's like… a huge honor. A godmother means that I will be Carlo's mom if Dallas or Rob die. God forbid that happen, though. I still don't want children.

"Excuse me, miss…" A gruff, hoarse, yet smooth voice acquires my attention from behind. I finish off the word I'm writing and turn around. When I turn around, I'm face to face with the guy Marissa said was cute. He has light brown golden eyes and neatly trimmed eyebrows. His facial hair is neatly groomed also, with the formation of a chin-strap.

"Yes?" I answer him. My own voice surprises me at how fluent and smooth it comes out. I'm feeling tired and incredibly run down, I was expecting my voice to mirror how I feel on the inside. He flashes me a smile, showing that all of his teeth are perfectly tactile, pristine white and completely straight. I would assume that he's had braces, but I try not to jump to conclusions with people that I don't know. He puts one finger up by the corner of his mouth and motions to me like I should wipe it off. I crinkle my eyebrows slightly before I realize that he's trying to tell me to wipe the corner of my mouth off. "Thanks." I mumble.

"No problem. Can I uh… borrow your ketchup? Mine is completely empty." He holds his hand out over the booth. His fingers are long and slender and his fingernails are very clean.

"Yeah, sure." I hand him the ketchup bottle and turn back around. He seems very polite. I look up to find Marissa walking back towards the table. We really should leave now. I want to get back to Carlo. "You ready to get going?"

"Yeah, we can head out. My grandmother is bitching at my mom about not seeing me since I've been home, so I have to go home too." She sighs and starts packing up her books and supplies. "I'll just drop you back off at the hospital, is that cool?"

"Yeah, that's fine." I shove my notebooks into my bag and stand up. Marissa glares at me for a second. I look at her with attitude and roll my eyes. "What are you staring at?"

"…You. Got. That. Bag." She says to me through clenched teeth. She sounds pissed, but all I can do is laugh. A few weeks ago, when we were home for Thanksgiving break, we went to the mall and we were in the Michael Kors store. While we were in there, we both saw this big schoolbook-deep bag that we wanted. I guess she finally realized that I went back the next day and bought it.

My family is….wealthier than Marissa's. Marissa has a job on the campus of Berkeley at a department store called Buck's. She had to get a job to pay for her books, whereas my parents don't want me to get a job on campus. They want me to focus, and we have enough money for me to still live comfortably up on campus without a job. I hate the term "rich", but I guess that's just what we kind of are.

"….I'm sorry." I nibble on my bottom lip and giggle. She rolls her eyes at me again and slings her bag on her back with one strap. I actually kind of like Marissa's bag. It's a Coach backpack, of course. It's actually pretty cute.

I hold onto my bag tightly and walk out the door, Marissa following close behind. "That guy sitting behind us was so cute. I should've made a move. He looked like he was in the military or something. I love a man in uniform." She unlocks her car and I slide in the passenger's seat.

"He wasn't that cute…" I shrug like it's nothing and fasten my seatbelt. I don't know if the fact that I'm gay has anything to do with it, but I'm especially annoyed with Marissa's boy-craziness today.

Sometimes, I feel like God is just out to get me. I know that sounds a little extreme, but I really feel that way sometimes. I grew up a strong Christian, and I'm aware that being "gay" is a sin and all. That's why I think that maybe sometimes he hates me. I'm not sure what religion I am anymore. I think I'm a Christian, but I find it so hard to believe that God hates gays, like they used to preach at my church. So I guess now I'm an atheist, but all in all, I just want to love God. I feel like it's God's form of punishment to make me have to sit through Marissa's rants and raves about boys and sex. I could use another gay friend.

Marissa turns the key to start her car, and again, as if God is trying to kick me while I'm already down, the song on the radio blares loud and proud. I know most people would expect me and others like me to love this song as an anthem, but I really hate it. I think it's a beautiful song, I have it on my iPod, and I love to listen to it when I'm feeling like my back is against the wall. But I hate listening to it around people, because then I feel like I'm naked in a crowded room with everyone staring at me in my most vulnerable form.

And to add fuel to the fire, Marissa begins to sing it. "A culture founded from oppression, yet we don't have acceptance for 'em. Call each other faggots behind the keys of a message board. A word rooted in hate yet our genre still ignores it. Gay is synonymous with the lesser. It's the same hate that's caused wars from religion…"

I block her out. I'm sick of hearing it already. I'm beginning to not care if "my love, my love, my love, she keeps me warm." Is true. Just shut up already.

I grind my teeth and try extra hard to just bear through it.

It's a long drive back to the hospital.

* * *

"Maddie, let me hold him now." I sit down on the couch of Dallas's new hospital suite and pump some hand sanitizer into my palm. I reach over and touch Carlo's tiny little hand, and Maddie just glares at me.

"Y'all ain't gonna be fighting over my baby. Now, Madison, you've had him for a whole half hour. Give him to Demi now." Dallas mediates between us. "He's a baby, not a toy Madison. Don't be stingy with him."

Maddie sighs irritably and hands Carlo over to me. He keeps sleeping quietly. I brush my finger along his tiny little nose. "Maddie, go find mommy down in the cafeteria. I need to talk to Dallas about something." I kiss Carlo on his forehead and wave Madison out the door. She stands up and stomps to the door.

"I'm NOT a baby! I hate when you guys treat me like this!" She stomps her foot down on the floor again and crosses her arms. "You guys are so mean to me! You know mommy doesn't like when you guys are mean to me!"

"You're NINE. Now get out like Demi told you and go find mom. And don't come back until we say you can come back. Now go tell mom that one." Dallas does a good job of yelling at her without actually having to raise her voice. Maddie rolls her eyes and leaves the room like we told her. "Damn, if Carlo ever has as smart a mouth as she does, I'm smacking him in his mouth every day. She's so damn smart mouthed."

"I know, but sometimes we are a little mean to her." I hold Carlo tight in my arms and walk over to Dallas's bed.

"Only when she deserves it." She scoots over and makes room for me to sit down next to her in her bed. "So what do you have to talk to me about?"

"…Just some stuff." I shrug and keep staring down at Carlo. "…How do you get a boy to like you?"

"…Why?"

"Because…" I drum my fingers along the metal bars of the bed. "I just need to know."

"Demi, don't be asking me this just because you THINK this is what you want. I'm serious. Be yourself, baby girl. If you like girls, then you like girls. If you like boys, then you like boys. Don't let nobody tell you how to feel, okay? I can tell you how to look, act and dress in order to get a boy to like you, but it's not going to make you like him. Just calm down and be yourself."

Dallas is really the only one that I feel like she fully accepts me. My mom says she accepts me. My dad says he accepts me. But I only really feel like Dallas does. "Thanks, Dal… but…"

"But what, baby girl? What's on your mind?"

"…I just… I don't… I don't know. I'm confused. Like… I know I like… girls. But like… I don't want to anymore. I just want to like boys. I think I'm bisexual… but I have a preference of girls. Is that possible? To like boys…. Think boys are cute… but like girls more than boys?"

"Well, Demi. You're still young, baby. It's normal for you to be confused and stuff. It's normal. And you don't have to figure out what you want just yet, you're still eighteen." She rubs my back and kisses my cheek. "If you're changing your preference just because you wanna be 'normal' and you wanna get married someday… then I think you should just follow your heart."

My eyes begin to sting and ache at the tears forming in the corners of them. I would really give my life to be normal and like boys. I'm just so confused. "Thanks for the advice, Dal. Really… thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem…" She kisses my cheek once more. "I love you, Demi. Don't ever forget that. Ever. Don't forget that I love you."

"I won't, Dal. I love you too."

Dallas reminds me nearly every day that she loves me. I think it's because she doesn't want it to happen again. I keep trying to tell her, my mom and my dad all that it's never going to happen again. It was a one-time thing, I didn't mean it, and I'm most definitely glad that I didn't actually do it. I just fell off for a moment there. I won't do it again. No matter how many times I stress that, my family still lives with the fear that I'll do it again. It's a shame how I almost had to do something like that in order to get them to accept me. It's really a disgrace.

"Your phone's ringing, baby." She holds her arms out for me to hand the baby over so I can grab my phone from my bag resting over on the couch.

"I hear it." I mutter and hand Carlo to his mother, getting up off the bed. I grab my phone and check it. I don't recognize this number… whatever. I'll answer it anyway. I slide my finger across the screen to answer it and put it to my ear. "Hello?" I say in that fake "I'm the nicest person ever" voice that we all use when talking to strangers.

"Demi? It's Selena…"

"Oh…. Hey, Selena. What's up?"

"Nothing… I uh… left my book in your car. Is it okay if I drive up to Oceanside to grab it? I'm trying to do my homework and I can't…"

"Oh! No problem… of course you can. Um… just call me when you get into Oceanside. I'll give you directions to my house."

"Okay… thank you."

"No problem."


	5. Sight

I lift up the lion statue on the pillar leading up to the steps to grab the spare key to get into the house. My mom and dad are still at the hospital, and they probably will be for a long time. Maddie went to my grandma's to get something to eat, so I'm here alone. It never bothers me to be home alone. I actually kind of like it sometimes. I open up the door and put the key back in its hiding place.

The house still smells like the candles that were lit before we left the house, later last night. I think I'm gonna take a long nap. Then, when I get up, I can do some school work. Hopefully my mom will be home to cook dinner by the time I wake up. Don't get me wrong; I can cook. I can cook very well, actually. I learned to cook from watching my mom while she cooks. But everything my mom makes ALWAYS turns out better, so I prefer her cooking as opposed to my own.

I walk into the kitchen and go straight to the fridge. We always have food in the house. My parents keep our "food money" in the cookie jar. It's actually a nice investment, because before we had the food money, there would be a lot of times we'd all go hungry or something. My family is pretty wealthy, but it wasn't always this way. When my mom's business started taking off, and my dad finally finished his schooling, both my parents made a vow to change the way we lived. So now, we never go hungry.

I grab a can of Brisk Iced Tea and crack it open. I take two sips and leave it on the island to drink later. I grab the big bag of dog food and pour it in equal parts into two bowls. With four dogs, they all share the same food. But Bailey once bit Bella's ear, so now we have to split it into two bowls, because Bailey doesn't like to share. I grab my tea after filling the dog bowls and head back into the living room. Just as I pass the home phone, it begins to ring loudly.

My mom uses the house phone as her business phone, so it's always ringing off the hook. I don't answer it that much, because I don't really like talking to her customers. But if she's not home, I don't have any other choice. I pick up the phone off the phone dock and push the green button.

"Hello, Dianna's Delicious Dishes, may I help you?" I answer robotically, lean against the wall and sigh. I hope this is quick. I want to take my nap.

"Yes, I'd like to place an order… available for pick-up by the 20th, please." The lady's voice says to me through the phone.

I pick up the pen my mom uses to write down her orders and start scribbling things down on the notepad. "Last name, phone number and order details?"

"Vargo is the last name, dear. 213-555-9898. And I'd like four dozen Christmas cupcakes… from form 439 in your magazine. Two dozen chocolate, two dozen vanilla. And an order of the parmesan crusted garlic chicken, all by the 20th."

I write it all down. "Would you like the chicken baked, roasted, fried or poached?"

"Roasted, please."

"No problem. So you need an order of the Christmas cupcakes, four dozen. Two dozen chocolate, two dozen vanilla. And the roasted parmesan crusted garlic chicken, all due by December 20th?"

"Yes, dear."

"Alright, no problem. Your total for the entire thing will be…" I punch some things in on the tiny calculator. "$123.97, due on the day of pickup. Have a nice day, and thank you for choosing Dianna's." I let the woman say her goodbyes and I put the phone back on the dock. I hate answering the business phone so much.

I flop down on the couch when I'm done and turn on the TV. I grab my phone and push the home button. I have one missed call from Selena. Oh crap! I forgot that she's supposed to come over to get her book! I hurry up and call her back. I totally forgot that quickly. She answers fast, on the second ring.

"I'm in Oceanside. Where is your house?" She says immediately after she answers my call.

I walk back to the door with the phone pressed to my ear and open my door. "233 Seashore Side. Like… right at the top of this big hill. You can't miss it. Where are you right now?"

"I'm by the Walmart. Which hill are you talking about?"

"Okay, you're at the Walmart. Turn at the next stop light, and you'll see the hill. Go straight up it and I live at the house right on the top of it."

"Okay, I'll see you in a minute."

"Okay." I walk outside and stand on the porch, waiting for her just in case she somehow can't follow my directions. I hang up my phone and jump up to sit atop of the wooden railing that wraps around my front porch. "Everyone knows I'm in over my head, over my head. With eight seconds left in overtime, she's on your mind, she's on your mind…" I absentmindedly sing.

The wind blows and my hair is sent whizzing off around my head. I tuck a few loose strands behind my ear and sigh. I really am in over my head. I actually wish I were back on campus. It's nice to be home with my family and all, but I feel like I'm hiding here. I don't have to hide at school. There are lots of bisexuals and lesbians on campus. Not saying that I've ever done anything with any of the girls on campus, but it's nice when you don't have to pretend like you're something you're not.

A dark blue, almost black Jeep Grand Cherokee creeps up the hill. I squint my eyes to see into the window. I should put my glasses on, but I'm too lazy to go upstairs and grab them. I squint a little harder to see if it's Selena that's in the car. Sure enough, it is her. She's alone. She turns into my driveway and stops the car. I walk down the front steps and down the entire length of the walkway to get into the driveway. She rolls down the window.

"This… is YOUR house?" She looks at me with her usual wide eyes, but her eyes are wider and brighter than usual, looking past me at my parents' amazing estate. I watch as she shifts her gear into "park."

"Uh… yeah." I shrug. "You want to come in?" I don't really expect her to want to come in, but I thought it'd be nice to ask. She'll probably just want to grab her book and leave, and I'm okay with that. Speaking of her book, I probably should've brought my car keys outside to open it up so she can get it. I wasn't thinking.

"Are you sure? You want me to come in? Is your family busy?" She asks nervously, which I find amusing. I'm actually just surprised she actually wants to come in. I knew we were friends, but I never thought we were the kind of friends that were comfortable going into each other's houses.

"My family is all at the hospital… my sister just had her baby. It's just me." I assure her with a fake smile. She opens up her car door and steps out. She's wearing a pair of yellow crop-cut sweatpants and a blue UCLA t-shirt. She's one of those people that look flawless even when they aren't trying. I'm slightly jealous.

"You're all alone in this house? Why don't you throw a house party?" She giggles and follows me up the flight up steps and to the front door.

"You gotta have a lot of friends to throw a party." I mumble under my breath, but loud enough for her to hear that I responded with the most literal sarcasm. I turn the knob to the front door and push. The door doesn't budge. I keep shaking and fumbling with the knob.

"Did you lock yourself out?" She asks.

I sigh, irritably and nod hastily. "Yeah."

"Are you gonna get in trouble?"

I shake my head. "No." I turn around and run back down the first flight of steps. "You can follow me." I mumble. Only I'm stupid enough to lock myself out of my damn house. It's such a pain in the ass, even more so now that my dad took the spare key from under the lion. Selena follows me loosely.

I turn to the garage and flip up the keypad. I punch the security code into the keypad and wait for the garage to fully open. I'm so irritated now, and I don't know why. Maybe my period is coming or something like that.

"You can get in through the garage?"

"Yep." I put my tongue in my cheek. It's so cute how amazed she is by my house. I think it's a little weird, because it's just my house. It's been my house for like five years now, so it's not a big deal to me. But it's a super big deal to her.

When the garage door is all the way open, I walk around my mom's car and side-step Madison's big mountain bike. The garage is so messy and disorganized that I'm slightly embarrassed to bring Selena in through it. I go to the side door and open it. "Sorry." I mumble for the mess.

"My garage looks like this too." She shrugs like it's nothing, which makes me feel a little bit better.

We walk into the exercise room down in the basement. I'm never down here, because I NEVER exercise. This is basically my mom, Rob and Dallas's room. They're the only ones that ever use it. "Take your shoes off. My mom hates shoes on the carpet." I say to her. I'm already in my socks, so I don't have anything to take off. She slips her shoes off beside the door and I lead her up the steps.

"Demi, your house is amazing. How do you not get lost in here?"

"It's not that big. It's really not." I'm a little more excited than I'm willing to admit. I'm excited to have a friend in my house. The only friend that ever comes over to hang out is Marissa, and I tend to get sick of her easily. "I was… about to make myself something to eat. Are you hungry?"

"….I could eat." She shrugs. "I'm more thirsty than anything." She follows me into the kitchen.

"Grab something to drink. The fridge is right there." I open up the Icebox Freezer Drawer under the fridge and grab the bag of Pizza Rolls. "Do you like combination, cheese or pepperoni?"

"I like the pepperoni ones." She grabs a can of Brisk from the fridge and cracks it open. "Do you have a straw? I don't like drinking off the can…"

I stand on my tip-toes and open up the microwave. "In the second drawer by the fridge." I hate having the microwave above the stove, because I can never reach it. I put the Pizza Rolls on a plate and let them heat up.

"Um… Demi, there is no straw in here…" She chuckles playfully. I turn around to look. She's in the spice drawer. My mom keeps ALL her spices in there. It's a wonder she can find any, the drawer is so cluttered.

I laugh too. "Other drawer." I point. She nods once and opens up the right drawer.

"…What do your parents do? Are they like… millionaires?" She puts her straw into her can and takes a sip.

"Not even close." I take a seat on the stool at the island. "My mom owns a catering business. And my dad's an ophthalmologist." I pick with the fake fruit in the basket in the middle of the island. "A caterer and an eye doctor. Interesting mix, right?"

"I bet you guys have real good dinners, huh? With your mom being a caterer and all…"

"Yeah. Some of the shit she tries to get us to eat is downright disgusting though. Like… the entire time my sister was pregnant, she couldn't eat any red meat, because it was like… causing her blood pressure to go up or something. So for a long time, all my mom did was make fish and chicken. I did not know there were so many nasty things you could do with chicken." I shudder just thinking about it.

She laughs softly. "Yeah, that would suck. When my mom was pregnant with Gracie, she couldn't eat a lot of sugar. So we stopped having dessert…"

"It sucks that we have to suffer just because they got pregnant." I giggle and go back to the microwave. "What time do you have to be home?"

"….I don't know. I didn't give my parents a specific time…"

I put the plate of pizza rolls in the middle of the island and sprinkle salt and pepper over them. "We don't have to eat in here… we can go in the living room." I grab my can of iced tea too and the plate and shut off the kitchen light.

"I'd hate to get anything on the furniture, though."

"There's only certain things we aren't allowed to eat in the living room. Like pasta and grape juice. Madison can't eat in here at all." I put the plate down on the floor in front of the plasma TV and turn on the light. "We do have to eat on the floor though. Cause the carpet gets steam-cleaned every month so if we get anything on anything, my mom would rather it be the carpet. The floor is clean though, I promise." I sit down Indian-style on the floor. She sits next to me.

"It looks clean. I would eat off the floors in here. Your house is so clean…"

"I know. My mom is a neat freak. If there aren't vacuum lines in the carpet, she'll have a panic attack. And I'm not kidding." I grab the remote and turn on the TV.

"DAMN! How big is this TV?!"

I shrug and pop a pizza roll in my mouth. "Like… 76 inches, I think." I swallow. "…How are you and…" I don't ever say his name, and that's how she likes it. Hate's a very strong word. Especially when you use it against someone you don't know. But I swear to god, I hate her boyfriend.

"Oh, we're good." She shrugs, which tells me she doesn't really want to talk about it. I take the hint and leave it alone. "And you?" She asks, clearing her throat. I know what she means by that. We just understand each other, that's all.

"I'm clean." I nod. I point the remote to the cable box and turn the cable on. The channel is of course, on a music station, and it's so loud that my ears ring. Madison must have been the last one watching this. Her and her little friend ALWAYS listen to the music station on full blast. It's annoying when they forget to turn the TV down. "Sorry for the lame music… and the loud TV…"

"Don't be! I love this song…" She blushes as if she's embarrassed.

"…Me too." I admit and start to sing, because I know this song off by heart, ashamed as I am to say it. "She said never in your wildest dreams…"

"AND WE DANCED ALL NIGHT TO THE BEST SONG EVER!" I start rocking back in forth, "dancing."

"We knew every line now I can't remember how it goes but I know that I won't forget her cause we danced all night to the best song EVAAAA!" Selena starts dancing too. We're both really rocking out right now. I would DIE if Madison ever saw me do this.

"I think it went OH OH OH! I think it went YEAH YEAH YEAH!" I lie back on the floor and laugh hysterically. "I'm so ashamed that I love this song."

"I love One Direction." She shakes her head and shoves another pizza roll into her mouth. "And I love Taylor Swift, but…"

"I don't listen to much Taylor Swift… besides what's on the radio. And I hate her one song. That "trouble" song. I hate it. I love Lady Gaga… I have all her albums… I like Ke$ha too. And no, I don't just like Lady Gaga because she's gay and I'm gay. Okay?"

She laughs. "I wasn't even thinking that, Demi." She laughs some more. "You're like… the coolest gay person I know."

"Everyone needs a gay friend, honestly." I shrug. "But I don't know if I'm… gay. You know? I still find guys attractive, but penises are gross to me." I don't know why, but it's so much easier to talk to Selena than it is to talk to Marissa.

"You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you just need… you just need to have sex with a guy ONCE. And then you might be able to decide what you want."

"My sister thinks that too. But I don't think I'll ever like boys. I don't know… girls… know what I like… because they have the same thing… you know?"

"I get you." She nods. "I think that you're born that way, you know? Because like… girls that like girls are always built the same way. Like… they have no boobs and all that stuff. I think God has it all planned out. That's why he makes you the way you are."

"…I'd like to think that. But your theory is wrong."

"How so? Most lesbians don't have big boobs. They're all built real nice and sort of like… flat. Like a boy. Like you for instance."

"…Selena." I call her name specifically just to get her attention. "Don't think I'm trying to make a move on you, because I SWEAR I'm not. But…" I stand up. "You're a little bit wrong." I pull my big, baggy hoodie over my head so that I'm standing in my bra. I take off my sweatpants too so now I'm just in my bra and underwear. Today, I was feeling kind of girly. So I matched my bra with my underwear; they're both pink and black zebra print. "You're trying to tell me that this is the body of a lesbian, right?"

Her mouth is just gapped open and her eyes are wide. I wish I could read minds to know what she's thinking. "…What the HELL, Demi?!"

"…What?"

"YOU'RE HOT!" She exclaims. "I bet… I bet… AND YOU'RE A LESBIAN?! The guys on campus would be PISSED…"

"…I know." I sigh and put my hoodie back on. "I know I've got a nice body. I mean, I think my face could be prettier, but my body is hot. I would totally date myself." I pull my pants back up too.

"I can't believe that…. HOW?"

"How what?"

"HOW DO YOU DO THAT? Your boobs are HUGE and you make it look like you don't have ANYTHING."

"Baggy hoodies and sports bras, my friend." I sit back down and sigh again. "So your theory is a little bit wrong."

"I see that. I just can't believe how big your boobs are… when it looks like you're flat chested…"

"It's magic." I wink at her and pull my hair from inside my hoodie. All of a sudden, the front door opens up and in walks my mom and my dad. Thankfully, Maddie isn't with them. I love Maddie to death, but she can be a little annoying. She'd be all over Selena like she's all over Marissa when she comes over. Selena looks into the hallway to see what the noise is. "It's just my parents." I say.

"…Are they gonna be mad that I'm here?"

"No. They don't care." I assure her and turn the TV down. "They'll be mad if they hear how loud this TV is."

"DEMETRIA DEVONNE!" My mom hollers from the hallway. Sounds like I am in trouble. Oops. I wonder what I did. My mom's yelling voice is BRUTAL. "DEMETRIA! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! GET IN HERE!"

"…Hold on. I'll be right back." I get up off the floor and walk into the hallway and down the long hall, past the sitting room. "WHAT?!"

"YOUR DOG SHIT ON MY CARPET AGAIN!"

"Well what are you yelling at me for? I didn't poop on the carpet, Oliver did!" I approach her and cross my arms over my chest. She's real mad, but I know her anger isn't directed towards me. Or at least I don't think it is.

"He would've been housebroken already if you would whip his ass with the newspaper like I've BEEN telling you to do! And how long are you gonna let it sit here?! You've been home for HOURS now, Demi! Why didn't you clean it?!"

"I DIDN'T SEE IT!"

"Oh, yeah right Demi! You've been in this goddamn house since NOON and you haven't walked out the door, PAST the dog shit?!"

"I really haven't!" I open the cupboard underneath the steps and grab the tissues, bags and carpet cleaner. "I came home, laid down, and then my friend came over! I wasn't paying attention to the dog."

"What friend?!" She snatches the carpet cleaner out of my hands. "You're bringing people into my house with dog shit all over the carpet?!"

"It's just Selena."

"I don't give a damn who it is, Demi. If she's still here, she's about to have to listen and watch you get punched in your back. I know you saw this shit, Demi. That's just like you to walk right past it. You're lazy like that."

"Mom, I REALLY didn't see the dog poop."

"Go put him in the cage." She tries spraying the carpet cleaner down, but it doesn't work. She shakes the bottle. "And since YOUR dog is the one that shit everywhere, YOU run to the store to get more stain remover." She puts the empty bottle on the buffet in the hallway. "You don't start beating that dog every time he shits in my house, I'm gonna beat YOU with the newspaper every time he does something."

"I need money…"

"No shit, Demi."

"Well I wasn't paying for it…"

"We all know you aren't paying for a pissin' ass thing, Demi. You and Dallas both are lazy little things. You both need to get jobs."

"…You don't want me to get a job on campus, REMEMBER? You want me to focus on school."

"Don't let your friend watch you get a beat down, child." She reaches in her back pocket and hands me her credit card. "DO NOT go on a spending spree, Demetria. I will be getting those text messages to let me know how much you're spending. Get some carpet stuff, puppy pads and some dish detergent. And if you want something, go ahead and grab it. But no crazy shit. And if Selena wants something, she can get it too. Is she staying tonight?"

"Probably not." I put her card in the front pocket of my hoodie and walk back to the living room. "Sorry you had to hear that…" I slide my slippers on. "She's actually really nice. She doesn't beat me or anything. She's just a yeller."

Selena giggles. "That was the funniest thing I've ever heard. She said she's gonna beat you with the newspaper."

"She's crazy." I shut off the TV. "You wanna take a trip to Walmart with me?"

"Sure…"

"Come on." I motion for her to follow me. She gets up from the floor and walks behind me. We walk through the kitchen to go back out through the garage. "Mom, this is Selena. Selena this is the crazy lady. Daddy, this is Selena. Selena, that's my dad."

Selena smiles at them and waves. "Nice to meet you…"

"Nice to meet you too, sweetheart. You want to watch Demi get a beat down?" My mom turns around to greet her. She's busy at the sink cleaning off a chicken. Selena just laughs at her.

"Demi, grab a case of Mountain Dew while you're out." My dad puts the last bit of the cans of soda into the fridge. "And it's nice to meet you too, hun."

"Selena, Demi says you live in Inglewood?" My mom cuts some fat off the chicken and sits it on the counter.

"Yeah… born and raised."

"That's kind of a far drive, isn't it? You're welcome to stay the night here, if your folks are fine with it."

"…You don't have to stay if you don't want to, though." I jump in. I don't want to impose on her, because I know how it is to be put on the spot.

"…I'll have to tell my mom that I'm not bringing the car home tonight, but yeah. I'll stay."

"…What are you even making with that chicken?" I ask my mom.

"Chicken and Pico de Gallo. I know you're probably hungry."

"We're actually not. But we'll probably eat it when it's done. It takes a while to cook, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Selena, you like Chicken and Pico de Gallo?"

"I've never really had it before… but I'll try anything once. Demi says you're a caterer, so it has to be good."

"It is good." I admit. "Alright, let's go. I don't want to be gone long." I put on my regular shoes. "You said puppy pads, carpet cleaner, dish liquid and soda?"

"And if you guys see anything that you want, go ahead and grab it."

"Right." I nod and open the door to go back down into the basement. Selena follows me down and puts her shoes on too.

"NO CRAZY SHIT, DEMI! I MEAN IT! IF YOU SPEND MORE THAN NECESSARY I'M GOING TO HURT YOU!" She hollers down the steps to me. I ignore her warning and rush out the door. Selena follows me like a puppy, and I don't mind.

We climb into my car and I start it. "Luckily Walmart is only just down the street. They usually try to make me go to Target, which is all the way on the other end of the city. I hate Target." I look back through my rearview mirror and back out.

"Your parents are so funny. Is it always just you and them when you come home?"

"No. Dallas lives there, and so does her boyfriend. But they're at the hospital until tomorrow, I think. And I think Maddie is staying at Jayde's house. So it's just us for tonight, which is a good thing because Maddie would have definitely tried to get you to play Assassin's Creed or Saint's Row with her. She's a little annoying."

"…Now you'll have to come stay over my house over the break…" She grabs her phone from her pocket and starts punching numbers onto the touchscreen keypad.

"Yeah…" I get quiet to allow her to be on the phone. I go down the hill and turn right, to the street that Walmart is on. I keep going straight until I turn into the parking lot.

"Yeah, mom. It's me… I'm not… bringing the car home tonight, so you'll have to use the van. Yeah…. I know… mhm. I'm staying over Demi's. Yeah… uh huh… okay. Yep. Love you too… bye." She hangs up. That was a quick phone call.

I find a parking space near the entrance and turn my car off. "Puppy pads, dish liquid, carpet cleaner and Mountain Dew." I say to myself. "Don't let me forget." I get out the car and Selena gets out too. "I should probably stop coming out in public dressed like a slob. But there's nobody to impress in Oceanside."

"You never know when you're gonna meet the one, Dem." Selena pats me on my arm and walks next to me. We both walk into the store together, and I grab a cart. "Okay, this WalMart is SO different from the one in Inglewood. It's HUGE."

"Ehh." I shrug and lean on the bar of the cart and walk to the bakery section. "See anything you want, go ahead and grab it. I got my mom's card." I grab a container of yellow frosted cookies and put it in the cart. She doesn't grab anything.

From the bakery, we walk to the produce section. "Want anything?"

"Nope."

Since she says no, I walk through the freezer section and over to the pet aisle. I grab a pack of puppy pads and continue on my way. "Do you think you're gonna marry him, Selena?"

"Who, Travis? OH GOD NO. NO." She shakes her head. "I think love is supposed to be beautiful. Not that shit he pulls on me. Like… I'm a HUGE believer in love at first sight… so I think I'll meet someone. But it's most definitely not gonna be him."

"…I don't believe in love at first sight. I think when it happens, it happens. I've actually given up on finding a girl for me. So I'll just wait it out…"

"Don't give up, Demi. It's not worth giving up." While walking through the aisle, she manages to give my back a pat. She's actually very reassuring, I'm surprised.

"Excuse me, Miss… you've dropped something…. Is this yours?" Someone says from behind us. We both turn around to see if they're talking to us. Sure enough, a tall, buff guy wearing a white cutoff t-shirt and black basketball shorts. He looks really familiar.

"…Me?" I ask.

"Yes. Is this yours?" He holds out a little golden credit card. "I think it fell from your pocket."

I tap and pat my hoodie pocket. My mom's card is missing. "Oh shit." I mumble. "Yeah, that's mine. My mom would've killed me… thank you."

"…You're welcome." He smiles at me. "You and I have got to stop meeting like this…"

I squint my eyes at him. He looks so familiar, but I can't figure out where I know him from. "Do I know you?" I ask him.

"Not formally. But you helped me out earlier. Just returning the favor." He weasels the card into my hand and keeps smiling at me.

My stomach just starts hurting. I feel like I just got punched in it, but at the same time, it feels good. My period must definitely be near. That's the only way I can describe this weird yet pleasant feeling in my stomach. "…Did you enjoy your ketchup?" I finally realize where I know him from.

"Very much so." He nods. "It's nice to know that you talk… you were a mouse earlier."

I put my hand over my stomach. It hurts so bad, but it feels so nice. "Yeah, I'm a lot more talkative… once you get to know me." I tuck my hair behind my ear and look into his eyes while I speak to him. He has the most gorgeously light brown eyes I've ever seen in my life.

"So since you're babbling along to me, does that mean I've gotten to know you?"

"…That might be what it means."

"…Demi, we've gotta go…. Remember? We gotta go back to your house…" Selena tugs on my arm.

Oh right. Selena's here. I forgot all about her. My stomach churns so much. I feel like I'm about to puke. "Yeah… I forgot…" I stumble and trip over my own two feet trying to walk away.

"Come on, Demi…" She pulls me again.

"See you around?" He asks me as Selena keeps pulling me away.

"Y…yeah." I nod fast. I probably won't ever see him again.

I turn around and walk normally with Selena. My stomach doesn't hurt so much anymore. But my head hurts.

"But yeah, as I was saying…" Selena continues our conversation from before. "I believe in love at first sight…"

"I… don't." I say.

But I'm having a hard time convincing myself.


	6. Private Talks

"I'm actually kind of hungry, Demi." Selena sits down on my bed and looks around. She swings her feet over the side of my bed and strokes my comforter. "Is that chicken stuff your mom's making gonna be done soon?"

"It should be." I plug my phone into the charger. "Um… do you want to take a shower? I can give you some pajamas to put on…"

"Yeah, that would be cool. I just… don't really have any underwear to put on." She blushes and looks down.

It would be a little gross to give her a pair of my underwear, and I really wouldn't expect her to put them on. Maybe she shouldn't take a shower. "…Wait, hold on." I put my finger up to her and leave the room. I'm really never supposed to be in Dallas's room, but I have good reason to believe that she wouldn't mind. I walk across the hall to her room and walk right in. It's always clean and neat in here. Even with the baby's bassinet all set up next to her bed and his fresh new clothes everywhere, it still looks really neat.

I go over to her vanity and open up her underwear drawer. She has some pretty gross things in her drawers, like her thongs and her vibrator. I think thongs are gross because they're always in the crack of your ass, but I wear them anyway, because they're comfortable. I rummage past her bright pink vibrator and past her thongs. I'd be more pissed off that I touched her vibrator if it didn't have a case on it, and if I didn't know that she hasn't used it in god knows how long. I even fling a condom wrapper to the side as I find what I was looking for. I grab the brand new pack of underwear that my mom bought for her. She bought her the underwear whenever she couldn't stand seeing Dallas's stomach hang out the bottom of her shirts anymore. Dallas ruled them as "Granny Panties" and she hasn't even opened them.

I shut her door when I leave and bring the underwear back to Selena. "Okay, I know they're a little bit… grandma-ish. But… they're all I have. They're brand new. Never even been opened."

"…Thanks. I'll take 'em." She laughs and takes them off me. "Where is the bathroom?"

"Um… you can use my bathroom. Because I know it's clean. I would tell you to use Dallas's bathroom, but I don't want to subject you to all the possible gross things you could find in there, so I'll use her bathroom. You can't use my parents', because they like to have sex in the shower, and I'll feel bad if you shower in that. And Madison has this nasty habit of pooping in her bathtub when she sleepwalks, so I won't do that either. So go ahead and use mine. It's through that door." I point.

"You guys all have your own bathrooms?"

"Well, it started out as only Dallas and my parents having their own bathrooms, me and Maddie had to use the one in the basement to shower, because the downstairs bathroom doesn't have a shower. But then, we got sick of smelling my dad's poops, because his poops STINK. So now, he has to go in the basement to poop. And the downstairs bathroom is just for peeing now, because there's carpet in it, and my mom got sick of the toilet overflowing onto the carpet from poop. Then me and Dallas got into a bad fist fight over who got to take a shower first. So then my mom called the contractors and got them to build me a bathroom that me and Maddie had to share. Then Madison started shitting in the tub so she got her own bathroom too. And that's the story of how we all got our own bathrooms." I finish explaining to her and sit down.

"…Your parents must be really strict about the house."

"Yeah, they really are. They don't like us to do a lot of things. Like when Maddie wrote on the walls, she got a spanking and a time out and then she had to clean it off. And Dallas had to do dishes and mow the lawn for an entire month once because her cat clawed up the door frame. The cat died, by the way. It got hit by a car, and Dallas was depressed for a few weeks."

She holds her stomach and starts laughing like hell. "The poor kitty!" She wipes her eyes. "…So what have you done that was bad?"

"…I pooped in the downstairs bathroom and I kept flushing the toilet because it wouldn't go down so the toilet flooded everything and we had to get new carpet. So I got my car taken away and I wasn't allowed to spend any money for the month, because the carpet cost a lot to be replaced." I shrug.

"Oh my goodness…" She shakes her head.

"I know what you're thinking. And yeah, you're right. They ARE really strict about a lot of things when it comes to the house." I stand up and start rummaging through my drawers to find the both of us some pajamas. "I'm not rich, Selena. I won't sugarcoat anything for you… yes. My mom brings home about… $3,000 every two weeks from catering. My dad makes $600,000 a year, just from cutting glasses and operating on eyes. But we aren't rich. My parents had to work very hard to get these things. Like… just a couple years ago, we were on foodstamps and renting our house because both my parents were finishing school. So they're really strict with our material things, because it wasn't always this way. We were flat broke at one time."

"I totally understand." She nods. "My mom takes pride in what we have too… you know?"

"Mhm…" I clear my throat. "So enough talking. You can go ahead into my bathroom now. I'll lock the door so that nobody can come in here while you're getting dressed." I set the pajamas I picked out for her down on my bed and leave the room.

I go into Dallas's room to use her bathroom to take a shower.

It's really nice to have a friend, other than Marissa stay the night. I think it's too soon to tell, but I definitely think that Selena and I can become best friends.

* * *

"Demi, will you watch him for a little bit? I have to go grab more formula from the store. I'll be right back." Dallas stands up from the couch and smooths her hair down. "He's sleep, but he might wake up hungry. If he does, there's a bottle on the stove. I won't be gone long. Just keep an eye on him."

"No problem." I get up from the loveseat and walk over to the side of the sectional couch that Dallas was sitting in. Carlo's only four days old now, so I'm very surprised that Dallas is leaving me alone with him. She's been super stingy with him ever since she brought him home, three days ago. "He's been dying for alone time with Auntie Demi." I bend down and pick him up from inside his swing.

Dallas cocks her head to the side and presses her lips to Carlo's temple, his thick hair sticking to her lips. "I'll be right back pumpkin. I love you." Carlo moans a little as she pulls away from him. "Aww, I know pumpkin. I'll miss you too." She kisses his lips this time. "Demi, take care of my baby."

"Dallas, you're gonna be gone for like… three seconds. He will be FINE with me." I cradle his head and lie it down on my chest. He's so tiny and sweet.

"I know, but… I don't wanna leave him." She starts stroking his hair forward so that it lies down correctly. "You won't understand how I feel until you have your own baby."

"I'm not having kids." I hold Carlo tighter and sit back down on the part of the couch that Dallas was sitting on. He yawns real big and nestles his head into my shirt to sleep. He seems so peaceful, so I won't wake him.

"I might go to Taco Bell too, Demi. You want anything?" She stomps on her shoes and grabs her wallet.

"Uh… yeah. Get me three of the Locos Tacos. All flavors. And a Strawberry Blast. And lots of mild sauce." I lean back and start patting Carlo's butt.

"Okay. I'll be right back." She grabs her car keys. "Oh, and if you have to change him, don't forget to put the Vaseline in his diaper. His pecker is still healing."

"I got it, Dal." I give her a thumbs up and keep rubbing his butt. He's so cute.

"…Okay. I'll be right back." She says and FINALLY leaves the house. I would never let anything happen to Carlo. I don't have the motherly instinct that Dallas has, and I never want to have kids, but I know how to treat a baby. I don't want to have kids, but I can treat Carlo like he's my kid.

I really need to get out of the house today. The last time I got out of the house was four days ago when me and Selena went to Walmart. I've been in this house, bored and stir crazy ever since. I wonder if Marissa wants to do something. Like go to the mall or the movies or something. I can't take being this bored. I shift to reach over and grab my phone, being extra careful not to wake up Carlo. I dial Marissa's number and hold the phone to my ear.

"Hey, hey, hey!" She answers the phone cheerfully. She's so cheesy sometimes. Or maybe I'm just used to the down-to-earth-ness of Selena that I forgot how to tolerate Marissa's cheesy little antics. Whatever it is, I roll my eyes at it and just leave it alone.

"Hey, Riss. What's up?" I brace the phone to my ear using my shoulder and move Carlo to my other arm, because my left one was getting a bit tired. He stretches his arms and legs out and remains in his deep slumber.

"Nothin'. Just getting some schoolwork done and being bored. How about you?"

"Watching the baby for a little while." I sigh. "You wanna do something tonight? Movies, mall, out to eat? I'm bored."

"Umm… yeah, definitely. But I can't figure out what. Is there anything good playing in the theaters?"

"Insidious 2 is playing, and I heard it was decent. So is that one movie… about the guy who starts killing people and stuff…"

"I kinda wanna go see Insidious. Do you want to go grab something to eat, then movies, then mall? Or mall, eat, movies?"

"Probably mall, eat, movies. Movies last, just in case we're late for a show or something." I lean down and kiss Carlo's head. "Where do you wanna eat?"

"Panera again. I want a turkey club. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, no problem. You want me to ride over and get you or are you coming here?"

"I'll come there. I wanna see the baby anyway. What time do you want me?"

"Eh… about an hour."

"Mmmkay. See you in a little."

I hang up and push my phone to the side. I look down at Carlo again and kiss his cheek. I thought maybe having Carlo around would make me change my mind about wanting to have kids, but it really hasn't. I still don't want to have babies of my own. I don't even want to adopt a baby when I get older. I just don't think that I'm cut out to have children. I'm not fit to be a mom, and I probably never will be.

I unbutton the bottom of Carlo's onesie and stick my finger inside his diaper. He's a little bit wet. I don't want to change his diaper, because I don't want to hurt him, but I can't just let him sit in his own piss. "Okay Carlo… Auntie Demi's gonna change you…" I lie him down on the couch and stand up to grab his wipes and a clean diaper.

He opens up his big hazel eyes and stares at me. He licks his lips smacks his lips at the taste of the air. I can't figure out if he looks like Dallas or if he looks like Rob. I grab his diaper and some wipes and unstrap his diaper. Just as Dallas said, he has a little bit of blood in the base of his diaper. I kind of don't want to touch or wipe him down there, just in case he's hurt. My mom is probably still angry with Dallas for getting him circumcised so early on. Personally, I think that she did right by doing it early.

"Carlo… do you like getting your butt changed?" I kiss his little foot and start wiping him carefully. I'm glad that he only peed, because I wouldn't be changing his poopy diaper. I don't wipe nobody's ass that isn't my own. I strap his clean diaper on. "All clean!" I pick him back up and kiss him some more.

Dallas needs to hurry up and get home before Marissa comes. I might as well get dressed while I'm sitting here waiting. I hold Carlo close to my body and go upstairs to my room. He'll be alright to lie in my bed until I'm done getting dressed. It's better than leaving him downstairs by himself.

I lie him down on my bed and put pillows around him to make sure he doesn't fall off or anything. I don't know what I should wear. I keep hearing Selena's voice ringing in my head. "You never know when you're gonna meet the one, Demi." Her voice keeps saying. I guess she's right.

I saunter over to my closet and open up the door. I'm not sure what the temperature is like outside, but I guess it doesn't really matter because you can never go wrong with jeans and a t-shirt. I grab a pair of my favorite jeans from the hanger and examine them to see if they need ironed. They're not wrinkled or anything, so I pull down the pair of shorts I'm wearing and replace them with my jeans, careful not to shove my foot through the gutted and ripped hole on my upper thigh and the one on my knee.

My guess is that it's probably a little chilly outside, so I grab my light grey sweater with the black PINK letters on the front. I bought the sweater about ten sizes too big so that it's nice and baggy on me. I put on my only black and grey Vans and go into my bathroom, leaving the door open so that I can still keep an eye on Carlo.

I can't tell you how annoying my hair is. I have extra long, extra thick Hispanic hair from my dad's side. When it's straightened, and perfectly straight, it falls down past my boobs and dangles about two inches past my bra-line, in the middle of my back. It takes a very literal TWO HOURS to straighten, and a good THREE DAYS to air-dry when I'm too lazy to blow dry it.

I lean over my sink to look in my mirror, make my funny makeup face, and apply my eyeliner. I don't put on any eyeshadow, but I do put on some mascara. I reach in my glasses case and shove my plain black-rimmed glasses on my face.

I wish Marissa would hurry up already.

* * *

"I just don't see why we always have to eat at Panera, that's all. It's like you never get sick of it." I chuckle and pile all the bags that Marissa and I accumulated from our mall trip into the back seat of her car.

"I don't get sick of Panera! I could eat there every single day, you know this." Riss shuts and locks the doors of her car so that our bags are safe. She's lucky that Panera is literally up the street from the mall's parking lot, otherwise I wouldn't be walking anywhere. We walk side by side up the street, cars passing us as we go.

"I was hanging out at my house with my friend Selena… from college. She stayed over my house a few days ago. And we went to WalMart, and when we –"

"Your friend who?" She interrupts me.

"Selena. The one I was telling you about. She stayed over my house a few days ago…"

"Oh, is that why you told me you couldn't come over?" She doesn't sound angry, but I can tell that her remarks are a tad bit snide.

"Yeah… but…" I tuck a big chunk of my hair behind my ear. "Nevermind, I forgot what I was about to say." I really didn't forget what I was about to say, it's just pointless to explain it to Marissa. She gets insanely jealous sometimes, and when she gets in her little moods, I just want to slap her. So, to save an argument, I won't even say it.

"What time did you say the movie starts?" She asks to change the subject.

"6:45. So we have like… two hours to kill." I grab the door handle to the entrance of Panera and open it up for Riss. She goes in the first set of doors before me, and holds the second set of doors open for me. It's kind of a habit to do that for each other.

One day, we had a little argument over who should hold the door for who. Instead of bitching to each other about it, we just decided that we'll both hold the door for each other. So it's kind of a habit now.

"I already know what I want." Marissa grabs two menus and walks back to the place that we always sit when we come here. I like Panera, because we can seat ourselves. I always prefer to sit in a booth, so seating ourselves works in my favor most of the time.

"Yeah, me too." I sit on my usual side and grab the silverware from the back caddy. My stomach starts to churn again. Ugh. I wish my period would just come already, instead of teasing and taunting me the way it is. Maybe I shouldn't eat anything here, so I don't get the runs. I have Taco Bell back at home, so I won't be too hungry later.

"What can I get you two to drink?" Our waitress walks over with her notepad.

"A Pepsi." Marissa says.

"I just want a Raspberry Iced Tea, please." I answer. "And we're ready to order."

"Okay, go ahead." She clicks her pen.

"I want the grilled turkey club, with a side of chicken noodle soup."

"And I want the same, but add a salad on too, please. With Caesar dressing." I spit out my order too.

"Of course. I'll go put those right in for you girls, I'll be right out with your soups, salad and drinks."

"Thank you." I say in my polite voice. I put my hand over my stomach. It hurts so badly. But it feels good, at the same time. I hate this feeling. I sigh and put my head down. "I'm not feeling well all of a sudden." I mumble.

"Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. My period's coming, I think." I lift my head up and rest my chin on my forearms. The waitress comes back and sets down my salad, our soup and our drinks. I stir my straw through my tea and look around.

There, sitting at the bar section near the front of the restaurant is that familiar figure with broad shoulders. His back is turned toward me, so I can't see his face. But I think that is who I think it is. I adjust my glasses slightly and look harder. He has camouflage pants on and a crisp white t-shirt with heavy boots. I don't know why, but for some reason, my head is telling me to go ahead and go talk to him.

I stand up. "I'll be right back, Marissa. I… have to go do something." I squeeze my way out of the booth and walk up toward the bar section. If it isn't him, I'll be totally embarrassed. But I think it's him. My stomach gets that burning/tingling feeling in it. I approach the empty barstool next to him and sit down.

"…We really do need to stop meeting like this." I put my elbows up on the table and fold my hands.

He twists his barstool slightly to face me. He's flashing his perfectly poised smile. "Well, well, well. What do you know? You came back." He makes his smile crooked and keeps smiling at me. We're a little close, considering the fact that a heavier-set man is sitting next to me. His breath is very sweet, like peppermint.

"I'm always here." I fix my hair so that it's laying down right. "Here and Walmart."

"…Not always." He mutters and looks straight at the person behind the bar.

"You want your slice of chocolate pie here or to go, Jay?" A short little blonde woman asks him. She's really pretty. She must be his girlfriend or something, to call him by name.

"Nah, no pie today Maggie." He waves his hand at her.

"…You're on a first name basis with the workers here… and they know what you want…" It's inexplicable, but I feel so confident talking to him. Like I can just ramble on and on and I don't have to feel annoying.

"…I've been here every day for the past three days. I guess they tend to pick up on my tendencies." He takes a long sip of what looks like Pepsi in his glass. "Maggie's a sweet girl."

"…Do you live here?" I twist my stool to face him too. "I've lived in Oceanside all my life, and I've never really… seen you around. But we must have crossed paths, because we seem to hang out in the same spots."

"I live in Oceanside… Demi."

"How do you know my name?"

"Your friend said it in Walmart the other day. I haven't forgotten it."

"Mmm." I tap my fingers on the table. "So how come I've never seen you around if you live in Oceanside? You can't be any older than me. Did you graduate from OHS?"

"Yeah, I graduated from OHS. I'm a little older than you, I think. You look to be about what? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"I'm eighteen. And you're probably no older than me."

"I'm 21, Ma'am."

"Oh." I clear my throat. "But I still think that I would've seen you around… Oceanside is only but so big."

"I don't exactly live here anymore."

"You don't?"

"Nope." He finishes off his drink. "I kind of live here at the moment though, I suppose."

"You suppose? Where do you live then?" Marissa probably doesn't think I'm ever coming back. But I don't care about her right now. I just want to talk to him. My stomach is still churning and my heart is pounding. I like this feeling, as unpleasant as it may be.

"Oh, everywhere. Beijing, Tokyo… Taiwan… Seoul…"

"How could you possibly live all those places?"

"Maybe I'm just lucky." He shrugs and cracks me another smile. A soft laugh slides through his lips, and with his smile, I can see that he has laugh lines. He seems like he laughs a whole lot. "I travel a lot, ma'am. It's my job."

"So if you travel so much, how did you find the time to settle in Oceanside? What do you do for a living?" I don't know why I'm asking him so many questions. I really can't tell anyone the reason. Maybe I'm just so intrigued to know much more about him.

"I was born and raised here in Oceanside. Being in the Reserve, I kind of have to travel a lot. I don't have much of a choice. But trust me, you haven't lived until you've seen Mount Fiji or Mount Everest. Such beautiful places…"

"…The Reserve?" I wrinkle my eyebrow. I'm not sure what the Reserve is. I should probably know what it is, though. "What's that?"

"The National Guard. You know… those people who guard the entire country?" He clears his throat. "That's me. Luckily I get to come home for the holidays though, huh?"

"…I guess that explains the combat boots and the camouflage." We both fall silent. I can't explain how I'm feeling, and I'm not sure how I'm feeling. It just doesn't feel like I'm thinking clearly, yet all the conversation and the desire to know about him are just coming so naturally to me. I have never felt this way before. I'm not real sure what this feeling is though. "Hey Jay… when do you have to go back?"

He snickers like I've said something subtly funny. "It's not Jay… Maggie just calls me that. It's Joe." He clears his throat once more. "And after the holiday is when I'm due to go back. Until then, I'm just… staying at home… enjoying the break with my family."

"Demi, come ON! Your food's getting cold, your tea is watered down, the movie starts in an hour and we're gonna be late!" Randomly, Marissa pops up next to me, partially shouting in my ear. I debate on shoving my fist down her throat.

I grit my teeth and try not to act like a fool in front of him. "Marissa, this is my new friend. His name is Joe. And Joe, this is my best friend Marissa." I introduce the two of them in hopes that Marissa will just shut up and leave us alone.

"Sorry to steal her from you. We just got to talking… and I guess we lost track of time." Joe apologizes to her. He's a complete gentleman.

"Look Riss, I'm coming. Go…" I reach in my pocket and hand her a bunch of one dollar bills. "Go put this on the table as a tip. I'll be right outside, just let me say goodbye to Joe."

Marissa rolls her eyes at me, takes the money and walks back to where we were sitting. She's so annoying sometimes.

"So um… yeah. I've gotta go now. But it was nice talking to you, Joe." I hop down off the barstool and fix my sweater. "I guess I'll just… see you around? You said you come here every day… maybe I'll just come back tomorrow." I put my hands in my back jean pockets.

"I never said that I come here every day…"

"Yeah you… you said you've been here every day for the last three days…" I flip my hair and adjust my glasses. "So that's every day, right?"

"…I've only been here every day for the last three days because… because I was kinda hoping that you'd be here. And you finally did show up."

"You were waiting for me? How long have you sat here waiting?" I flip my hair again and blush.

"…About an hour and a half every day…" He winks at me.

"…Well. Maybe we can talk again someday…" I can't help but smile. I feel my dimples come out, and when my dimples come out I can tell that my smile is genuine.

"…Text me sometime." He pulls out his sleek black iPhone and unlocks it. "What's your number?"

"Uh… 528-555-0761. What's yours?" I grab my phone too and put his number in.

"528-555-9090." He says. "I'll text you later, alright?"

"No problem. Bye Joe."

"Bye Demi."


	7. Chooses You

"What'd you and Marissa go see?" My mom asks as soon as I walk back in through the door, leaning back so that she can see into the hallway down at the front door. She's standing at the kitchen island, making something. It's 9:30 at night, so I know she's not just now making dinner. If there's one thing my mom can't stand, it's feeding us late. She's a little superstitious, and she's a firm believer in eating a heavy meal before you head to bed will give you nightmares.

I slide my vans off next to the door and lock it up for the night. "Insidious Chapter Two." I walk straight back down the hallway and into the kitchen. "What are you making?" I sit down at the island and rest my head on my forearms like I did back at Panera with Marissa. I watch as she cubes bananas into little squares and throws away the peels. I could probably guess what she's making, but I really don't feel like it.

"Daddy had a taste for some banana pudding, so I'm gonna whip up a quick batch. I drove your car down to the Walmart to grab some bananas, and I don't like how it's running. It keeps dragging and stuff, so daddy's gonna take it in to get an oil change tomorrow morning. If you want to go anywhere, use Dallas's car." She throws yet another banana peel away.

I'm severely annoyed that my mom thought that she could just use my car. My car is fine. It's been getting me to everywhere I need to go. I'm thankful that my dad's gonna take it in tomorrow, but I don't really think anything is wrong with it. "…I'm gonna go take a shower and stuff."

"No, no. Stay for a second, Demi. I want to talk to you." She pushes the dish she's making the pudding in towards me and hands me the yellow box of Nilla Wafers. "I talked to Maddie today while making dinner. Talked to Dallas yesterday while helping her give Carlo a bath. I want to talk to you now."

"Uh… okay. What do you want to talk about?" I open up the wafers and line the bottom of the dish with them so that she can spread the pudding over top of them. My mom makes the best desserts. Her dinners are amazing too, but she's better at baking than cooking, hands down.

"Whatever you wanna talk about, baby." She reaches over and slides her hand and fingers through the silky long lengths of my hair. "Your hair is getting so long and pretty." She clears her throat and continues cutting up bananas. "So how was the movie? What was it like? Should I go see it?"

"Um… it was good. I really enjoyed it. It was a lot scarier than the first one. This one ghost smacked the shit out of the mom, it was so funny!" I finish lining the bottom of the dish with the wafers and take my glasses off. "Then the dad hit her in the back of the head with a kettle."

"Watch your mouth, Mems. But it was good? Where'd you guys go eat?" I kind of hate when she calls me "Mems", but it's kind of cute so most of the time, I just excuse it. I think the nickname derived from Madison when she was a toddler. When she first started talking, she wasn't able to say "Demi" correctly, because she replaced all her Ds with Ms and all her Ss with Ts. So I became "Memi" and Dallas became "Mallas." For a long time, School was "Tool" and Stupid was "Tupid." I guess that's where "Mems" came from.

"Sorry. But yeah, it was a good movie. We ate at Panera, of course. I got some pretty cute things at the mall. I bought Carlo an outfit, but I don't think he'll be able to fit it for another month or so. He's a little small, and the onesie is kind of big. I think Dallas will love it though." I reach in my pocket and put her credit card on the island. "I only spent like… $400 something."

"Okay baby." She walks around to the side of the island that I'm sitting at and puts her arm around me. "Bubby is coming over tomorrow. Bubby and Nana… you okay with that?" She kisses the top of my head and starts playing with my hair like she always does. "I already let them know that we aren't gonna talk about that…"

"No, it's fine. I'm…excited to see them." I grab a wafer and pop it in my mouth. I'm a lot less than thrilled to find out that my grandparents are coming. Every time they come visit, they (especially my grandma) start talking about God and Jesus Christ and how "being gay is a sin, but I can be saved." It's really nerve-wracking, actually.

"Mmmkay baby. You go 'head and take your bath now. I want you to get some sleep. You haven't been sleeping and resting much since you've been home." She presses her lips to my temple. "I love you, babyface."

"Love you too, mom." I hop down off the stool and start walking towards the stairs. Aside from Dallas, my mom is the easiest person in the entire family for me to talk to. Maddie and Dallas both know that my mom and I have something…special. We always have had something special. I used to sleep in bed with her until I was seven years old, for two main reasons. Reason one: I always felt safer sleeping with her. And Reason two: she felt better with me beside her too.

I take my phone from my pocket and plug it into my charger as soon as I get into my room. It died halfway through the movie, and it's been dead ever since. I take off my jeans and throw them over my computer chair. I take off my sweater and throw it over the chair too. I put my bra and my underwear in my dirty clothes basket and go into my bathroom.

My shower is the best thing in this house, literally. It's removable, it has different settings and it vibrates. Not like I ever use the vibrating part, but it's still nice to have. I turn the hot water all the way up and add just a little bit of cold to it. I grab my wash cloth and step into the spray.

I've missed this about my house. I've missed my shower. My shower back in my dorm is nice and all, but it's literally nothing compared to my shower at home. I turn around so that the water hits my back. I hope my big, messy bun holds out, because I took he time to straighten my hair and if it gets wet, it'll frizz back up.

I squeeze some of the shower gel into my washrag and massage it all over my body. When I'm done washing up, I rinse myself off, watching as the suds go down the drain. I cup my hands and let water fill up in them, then splash my face with it. Usually, I wash my face with the face wash I have, but I don't feel like it tonight, so I just shut off the shower and step out.

I wrap my pink and purple striped towel around my body and go back into my room. I always feel better when I take showers. It's just something that's always proven true for me. I keep my towel around my body and lie down on my bed, curling up into a naked little ball on my comforter. I reach over and grab my phone off the charger and push the home button. I have a missed call from a weird number, and three text messages; two from Marissa and one from Selena. The weird number is probably from Selena's home phone.

I ignore Marissa's two texts and read over Selena's. All it says is "hey! :)". I guess I should call her back. I go to my recently missed calls and tap the red font weird number. I hold the phone to my ear and listen as it rings. I half wonder what Selena wanted.

"Hello?" A muscular, manly voice answers the phone. I think it's Selena's stepdad, but I don't want to seem weird by automatically assuming, so I just won't.

"…Someone called me from this number?" I use my fake voice and hold my towel close to my body. I sit up and pull my knees into my chest.

"Oh, yeah. Hi…"

"Uh… hi?" I scratch my head. Do I know who this is? I'm a little confused…

"Sorry I didn't text you before I called… my phone is really dead and I can't seem to find the charger…"

"Oh…" I bite my lip. I really don't know who this is… "Um… so what's up? What are you… doing?" This person obviously knows who I am, so I really don't want to be rude by asking who this is when they already know who I am.

"Just sitting around… finishing off my food from earlier. How about you?"

OH! I KNOW WHO THIS IS! "Um… just sitting around. About to watch TV and eat some banana pudding. What made you decide to call me?" I keep my towel around me and lie on my stomach.

"Well, I was gonna text you. But like I said, my phone is all messed up right now. And I kind of wanted to talk to you…. So I decided to call."

"…I'm glad you called." I kick my feet up and cross them. "What are you doing for the rest of the night?" My stomach is flip-flopping all over the place. I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose. I think my stomach is going to explode. I think I'm going to explode. I can't explain this feeling, I've never felt anything like this before. I have NEVER felt anything like this.

"I'm probably just gonna go night fishing with my brother… then head off to bed or something. That's all. Nothing too fun, nothing too boring."

"Night fishing? What's that?"

"Fishing… at night." He chuckles, which makes me laugh too. "No… my uh… family has a boat. My brother likes to go fishing at night, because there are better chances of catching squids at night. So, I take him out fishing at night."

"Ohh… that sounds fun. I hope you guys enjoy yourselves. Is your brother older or younger?"

"Younger." He clears his throat in my ear. "Well if you're not doing anything, do you want to come night fishing with us?"

"That's…. very kind of you, Joe…. I would love to… um… what time?"

"Uh… around 11:30. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I um… might be out a little later. Around 12… or something. I'll have to sneak out. My… my parents won't let me out… with someone I hardly know…"

"I won't hurt you, though. We're just friends…"

"…I know. But… you don't know my parents. I'll be out, though. Where should I meet you at?"

"At the dock. On second and seventh. Right in that little corner. You can text me if you need further instructions or something. I'll see you in a while?"

"I'll see you." I smart smiling so hard that my dimples come out again. I think I have a date. I can't really call it a date, because he just thinks of me as a friend. But I'm going somewhere with a boy. A BOY. This feels really weird, but weird in a good way. I can't stop smiling, and I can't get this feeling in my stomach to go away. I put my phone down and stand up finally. I drop my towel and walk over to my dresser to grab something to put on.

It never gets too cold in Oceanside, but the nights do tend to get pretty chilly around here. I grab a sports bra and pop it on over my head. I grab my pair of light blue boyfriend sweatpants from Victoria's Secret and pull them on. I grab the only clean hoodie I have and throw it on. I don't match, with blue pants and a red Diamond Life hoodie, but that's honestly the least of my worries.

I take my hair down from my ponytail and flop down on my bed. I'll probably have to walk to the dock, because if I take a car, my parents will most definitely wake up. Luckily for me, the dock isn't that far away. I can walk there in about… ten minutes.

I turn on my TV and flick through the channels. American Horror Story is on, so I turn it on. Sucks that it's a repeat of last week's episode, but I'll watch it anyway, because I'm not really interested in anything else on TV. I wonder if Joe thinks of me as a friend, and a friend only.

I'm a hopeless romantic, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. It's a good thing, because I'm easily satisfied with someone whenever I have them. It's mostly a bad thing, because I fall for people too easily. I fall so easily it's not funny. But I feel weird, because I think I'm falling for a boy.

Joe can't possibly think of me as only a friend. If he did, why did he wait at Panera for three whole days for me to come back? He must have wanted to see me. You don't wait for friends, do you? Maybe you do, but not in the way he waited for me.

My head is so mixed up. I like girls. I've liked girls since I was fifteen years old. Why am I feeling so deeply about a boy? I'm a lesbian, aren't I? I've kissed many of girls, I've had sex with three girls, I'm physically attracted to girls. I can't just… turn straight? Can I? I'm so mixed up.

I'm just so confused.

* * *

"I'll be right back. I'm just going to meet a friend…" I whisper to Dallas through her cracked door. "If mom or dad wake up, cover for me. Cover for me, Dal." I know Dallas won't tell on me. She won't even ask me questions about where and who I'm going to meet. She and Rob used to sneak around all the time and I covered for her every single time. I don't want to tell her that I'm going to meet a boy there, because I don't want to get her all riled up with questions. So I just leave it at "a friend."

"Alright. But I'm going to head to bed when Rob gets home at about… 2:00, so don't be out past 2, cause then I won't be able to cover for you. Alright?" She bounces Carlo on her shoulder to quiet his crying down. "Have fun Dems."

"I will. Give Carly kisses for me." I shut her door before she can yell at me. She hates when I call him "Carly." She says that I'd better stop giving her baby girl names before she smacks me in my head. I personally think that "Carly" is a cute nickname for Carlo. It's either "Carly" or "Car-Car."

I tiptoe down the steps and slide on the same Vans I kicked off when I came through the door earlier. I disarm the alarm and open the front door quietly, and I disappear into the night. I'm still confused and nervous about what I'm going to be walking into with Joe and his brother, but I decided to just let go and let the course run its course. I still think that I'm a lesbian, but who really knows anymore?

I grab my phone out of my hoodie pocket and call Joe's cell phone. I really like having Joe as a friend. It's kind of like we connected from the get-go. I've only known him a few days, but I really feel a connection with him. I can talk to him so freely and easily. The first time we really talked earlier today, I felt like I was talking to Marissa. It was so easy.

"Demi? Are you on your way? Do you need us to come meet you?"

"Um… no. I'm on my way, but I don't need you to meet me. I just wanted to let you know that I'm on my way." I look ahead and keep my eyes focused on the street.

"You're walking? Stay on the phone with me until you're here."

"…Why? I know my way to the dock."

"I don't want anything to happen to you. Just…. Stay on the phone with me. For my sake, please."

"Okay." I shrug and just keep walking. It's sweet that he doesn't want anything to happen to me. It's really sweet. But he really doesn't have to stay on the phone with me. I'll be fine. "…So, did you tell your brother that one of your friends is gonna join you tonight?"

"Yeah, I told him. He's excited to meet you." I hear the sound of the motor of the boat revving up in the background. I'm so glad it's a motor boat and not a row boat. I hate row boats. I've been on a row boat once, and I will never go back on one.

"That's… nice. I'm um… at the edge of the dock. About… three minutes away."

"Uh… I don't…. nevermind, I see you. I'm gonna walk and meet you halfway, okay?"

"Okay." I hang up and speed up my pace walking. He sees me, but I don't see him. I don't see him at all. I just keep walking straight, because he said that he's docked on the corner of second and seventh, and second and seventh is a little further down than this.

"Demi, over here!" I hear his voice call my name, but I still don't see him. I turn around and look, because it sounds like his voice came from behind. When I turn around, I see him, finally.

He's standing at the edge of the dock, holding his brother's hand. His brother really is little. I'd say he's no older than Maddie. I shift my direction and walk back towards the both of them. His brother is really short with shaggy brown hair and big eyes. He's wearing a Spiderman t-shirt with Spiderman pajama bottoms. He's adorable.

And then there's Joe. Standing beside the boat, holding his brother's hand. The tight black underarmour frames his body so that his muscles are prominent. Instead of the usual camouflage printed pants he always has on, he has on a pair of bright red basketball shorts. He looks like a father holding his son's hand.

"Hey!" I wave as I approach them. His brother flashes me a cute little toothless grin. He is missing every last bit of his top teeth, apart from two, one on each side. I can't help but smile back at him.

"This is my brother, Frank the Tank. Or just Frankie." Joe introduces him to me. "Frank, this is my friend, Demi. She's real nice. I told you about her, remember?"

"…Hi… Demi." He says to me with the softest little voice. His cheeks flush rosy red and he burrows his face into Joe's upper leg. He's so cute.

"Hi, Frankie." I ruffle his hair playfully and he shyly flashes that toothless smile.

"Come on guys." Joe motions for me to follow him. He holds Frankie's hand a little tighter and leads us both to the edge of the dock. I step down into the boat and sit down on one of the benches. Joe puts Frankie's life coat on him and hands him a fishing pole. "Catch something good tonight, bud."

Joe is really good with his brother. Their relationship is so cute.

"I'm glad you could come…" Joe turns the motor of the boat on, and we start gently rocking forward. "Living near the ocean can be really pretty sometimes." He grabs some Razzles from his back pocket and offers me some. I hold my hand out, and he pours some into it. I chomp on a red one.

"I'm glad you invited me… this is the most fun I've had since I've been home from school." I watch as the moonlit water rushes by us.

"School? You in college or somethin'?"

"Yeah. UCLA."

"What for?"

"Neuroscience."

"Isn't that something with the brain? You're going to be a brain surgeon? That's awesome…"

"…No. Not exactly. I mean… I'm majoring in Neuroscience, but I'm going to be a Behavioral Specialist."

"Ohh. That's really neat, Demi. You must be freakishly smart then…"

I shrug. "Yeah, I guess. How much brains does it take to get into the military?"

"Not the military, Demi. The National Guard." He winks at me and nudges me on the arm. "And I'm pretty smart, if I do say so myself. I graduated fifth in my class. But I knew that the service is what I wanted to do. I just liked the thought of protecting people."

"…I guess that's fair." I flip my hair and smile at him. "….So do you take all your friends on the boat with you? Or am I just lucky?"

"I prefer the term special, rather than lucky. I think you're… special. It doesn't take luck for me to take you out here on the boat."

Oh my god, my stomach is doing backflips. Why does he make me feel this way? "…Why do you consider me special? What… what time-frame do you need to deem someone special to you? It's only been a few days since we've first met, right?"

"Well…" He snickers. "Sometimes, it just chooses you. If you cross my mind at least once a day, then I guess you must be special, right?"

"So I cross your mind every day?"

"Only for the past four days."

"…You've been on my mind too…." I guess I'm starting to believe in love at first sight. Though I don't know if I love Joe, I definitely feel something for him. And it happened so suddenly.

But like I said, I guess it just chooses you sometimes.


	8. 20Q

"So… we should do this again sometime…" I walk side by side next to Joe after we get off the boat. I'm not sure how, but we somehow ended up graduating from walking close to each other to holding hands. I'm not entirely sure what this means, but I'm not gonna question it, because it just seems… right. And I don't want to ruin anything. My hand feels so small inside his.

"Yeah, we should… maybe without my brother next time." He downgrades the fact that his brother was here with us, but he turns his head to the side and kisses his Frankie on his cheek. Frankie fell asleep a while ago inside the boat. Joe slung him over his shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes and we've been walking together in silence ever since.

"How much older are you than him?" I swing our hands back and forth. "You seem to really love him a lot… is it just you guys?"

"Yeah…." He looks down at me for a second then back at Frankie. "He's nine…so I'm twelve years older than he is. And yeah… it's just us." He props Frankie up a little because he was slipping. "My mom and dad… they couldn't have kids easily. So when they got pregnant with me, I was their…. Miracle baby, I guess. And when they finally decided to have another, they had to do it through fertility treatments. And they had Frank." He kisses Frankie's cheek again and smiles. "Sucked to find out that Frank has this… defective gene. He has epilepsy real bad. And one of the seizures he had a while back messed with his brain, so he has limited mobility in his arms and legs on his left side. But he's super smart. Like… borderline genius."

"…Do you have the defective gene too then?" I finally let his hand go and wipe it on the seat of my sweatpants. We were holding hands so tightly that both of our hands ended up sweaty. I don't know why, but for some reason, I really didn't want to let his hand go. To be helpful, I open up the back door to their car so that he can easily slide Frankie in.

"No, I'm not epileptic. I don't have the gene. The mutation I have is very different from Frankie's." He bends down and puts Frankie in the car and shuts the door. "I'm perfectly healthy. I just can't have kids."

"…You can't have kids?" Is this God's sign to me? Is Joe my soul mate? What else are the odds of me meeting someone that can't have children when I don't want kids? "How'd you find that out?"

"Doctor told me that when I hit puberty. I can't get a girl pregnant. It sucks, but you know. You live and you learn. I don't really want kids anyway." He shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. "…So what about you? Are you an only child?" The wind blows and he catches a long strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. Tingly feelings are sent rocketing and racing through the pits of my stomach.

"I wish I was an only child." I giggle. "I have a pretty big family. There's me… my mom and my stepdad, my two sisters, my sister's boyfriend and my nephew. Plus four dogs."

"…Sounds like there's never a dull moment in your house." He hesitates for a second then reaches out and grabs my hand again. "You have such tiny hands…" He turns my hand palm-up and traces the lines that are in my hand. "Do you… need a ride home?" He interlocks his fingers between mine. "Scratch that… get in the car. I don't want you to walk…"

"…Okay." I look up at him, and for a split second, our eyes meet. His eyes are so pretty, especially with the way the moon is reflecting off them. He's so… beautiful. "Thanks." I mumble, because I can't muster up anything else to say. I walk around to the passenger's side of the car and slip right in. I can tell that this is his car, because it smells exactly the way he smells. It smells like axe and cool mint gum.

"It's still a little early… what are you gonna do when you get home?" He starts his car and backs out of the parking spot he's in. I take a quick look at the clock to see what time it is. He's right, it is still early. It's only 12:45. It felt like we were on the boat for way longer than we actually were.

"Um… I'll probably just… I'll probably get something to eat and go on to bed. I'm hungry…"

"I thought you ate banana pudding!"

I laugh almost hysterically. "I did! But it didn't do anything for me! I'm still hungry!"

He laughs too. "….What's your curfew?"

"I don't have one." I grab my hair and pull it all over to the left side of my head. I tend to play with my hair a lot whenever I'm nervous. I am nervous right now, though I really don't know why. I think it's just because of how I think of Joe. I'm so confused, but I'm just playing everything off by ear, because I don't want to ruin anything. If this is just a friendship, I want to keep it. And I think that there's a reason we're friends. I realize that there is a such thing as fate. Fate exists. But I think it only takes you but so far.

"…Okay. Where do you like to eat? You want to go to In-N-Out or Jack-N-The-Box?"

"Oh, Joe. No…. I don't have any money on me. I'll eat when I get home." I shake my head. "I don't want anything."

"So, In-N-Out it is." He puts his turn signal on and turns onto the road that leads towards the plaza with all the restaurants in Oceanside. "I wish I could take you to somewhere more… sit-down, but we gotta take what's open at 12:00." He shrugs and goes into the drive-thru.

"…I'm not eating anything. I can't let you spend money on me… I'm fine. I'll eat when I get home." I put my head down and my hair falls down to create a curtain between us. My hair is so disgustingly thick. Just as I'm about to reach up and tuck it back behind my head, he reaches over and grabs it for me.

"Demi." He runs his thumb along my hair. "…Is this your real hair? Or is it fake?"

"It's real." I haven't had a haircut in months…" I press my top teeth down onto my bottom lip and sigh. He gets sidetracked so easily that it's cute. Hopefully he'll forget what he was even going to say. I don't care what he says; there is no way in hell I'm letting him buy me food. He's being too nice to me. I'm honestly not used to any of this.

"…It's beautiful." Softly, he puts my hair behind my ear and lets his hand linger near my cheek. He brushes his fingers along my sideburns. "But eat. Will you please? I wouldn't bring you here if I minded spending money on you. I don't mind. Eat something. It's the least I can do."

"…What do you mean it's the least you can do?"

"…Nothing. Uh… what do you want?" He turns his attention to the menu. "I think I'm gonna get the double cheeseburger… with a coke. What do you want?"

"…Just get me the small chicken and fries basket with an iced tea." I look back at Frankie in the backseat while Joe orders. He's sleeping so peacefully. If Joe hadn't told me that he's not completely healthy, I would have never guessed. He's so cute and he really is a sweetheart. The relationship that he and Joe have seems really special. I guess I'll never understand it, unless of course, Maddie has a life-threatening disease.

How perfect are Joe and I for each other? He doesn't want kids, and neither do I. He can't even have kids. If someone would have told me back when I was fifteen that I'd be eighteen years old, living as a lesbian for the last few years, and all of a sudden extremely attracted to a twenty-one year old man that's in the service, I'd say they were crazy. It's just tripping me out how… I've been openly gay for years now, but…. I'm attracted to Joe in the way that I've been attracted to my past girlfriends. Actually, the attraction that I feel for Joe is a little bit magnified.

It's even more confusing how I still don't think I'd have sex with him. I still cringe at the thought of penises, and I still really don't want to ever be near them. But… maybe that's what it's supposed to be. Are you never supposed to be physically attracted to someone that you might potentially love? It's a little soon to be thinking about love, but…. I think I might. I just feel… differently with him. I really wish I didn't fall for people as fast or as hard as I do.

"…Joe? What did you mean by that, though? When you said this is the least you can do for me? What did you mean?"

"I meant…" He grabs the food off the girl at the serving window. "I don't know, Demi. I just…" He sighs and pulls off to the side in the parking lot so that we can eat. "It's not really important, Demi."

I grab my food off his lap. "But I just want to know. I don't want to feel like I owe you anything. So I need to know."

"Demi, you don't owe me anything. You're… you're giving me everything back just by being here with me. You don't owe me anything." He shakes his head and takes a bite of his hamburger. I look down and grab a French fry from my basket.

"So… basically… you're just happy I'm here?" I swallow my French fry and take a sip of iced tea. "You know…" I swallow a big, nervous lump in my throat. "I want to know you, Joe." I stop eating and look directly at him, my eyes boring into his. "You're like… a mystery to me. And I want to figure you out."

"…Well it all depends on what you wanna know."

"….Let's play 20 questions." I suggest.

He gives me a hard smile with pursed lips like he's concealing a grin. "Sure…. You first."

"Okay." I lick the salt crystals off my lips and smile. "One. Do you see yourself committing?"

"Um… Yeah. I do, eventually. When I retire from the guard and have a stable financial situation…. I do see myself committing. I don't want to die alone." He clears his throat and sips his drink. "…One. Do you prefer giving or receiving?"

I crack a big smile. "Depends on what it is!"

"What do you mean? It's all the same. Giving or receiving?"

"No, it's not the same." I can't stop smiling. "Like…" I blush. "I like… I like giving presents better than getting presents. But I like getting… I like…" I cover my face because I'm blushing so hard. "I like getting oral more than giving oral… so it depends on what it is."

He laughs too. "Okay, okay! Good point." He smiles really wide too. "You're a little bit perverted."

"Just a little!" I stop laughing so much, but I can't wipe the smile off my face. "Two. Have you ever been in love?"

"No." He answers fast. "I've had other girlfriends, but I have never been in love. No." He shakes his head. "Two. Any nicknames?"

"Demi."

"Demi?"

"Demi."

"How?"

"My full name is Demetria, so I guess Demi is a nickname." I shrug. "What's your type?"

"…I don't really have a type." He shrugs. "I mean… I like any girl as long as she's nice and respectful."

"…Nothing? Like…. Blondes? Boobs? Butts? Long hair? Short hair? Anything?"

"…Uh… no."

"Nothing at all? Well then. What did your last crush look like?"

"She was… she was brunette. With really long and silky hair. She didn't have big boobs, she didn't have a big butt. She had brown eyes. She was kind of tan. Younger than me. Really short and ladylike. Dressed in what she was comfortable in, not what looks good. Her fingernails were always painted and they were really long. She had a really pretty laugh and a really pretty voice. Her laugh was really loud, but I loved it. And her voice was a little bit… raspy. But it was a really pretty tone."

"…She sounds amazing."

"She is."

"…What was her name? I wonder if I knew her…" I sigh. Joe's last crush sounds like she was probably gorgeous. I don't think I'm ugly, but I don't think I could compare to the way he described her. She basically has no flaws. I wonder why they never dated. "…Why didn't you ever date her?"

"I couldn't date her. It was just a complicated situation. I still hold out a little bit of hope that maybe one day we can be something though. She was a really pretty girl. I met her at this one restaurant. I don't think you know her…"

"Was she a waitress at the restaurant?"

"No." He runs his hands through his hair. "I never told her that I had a crush on her though. Because I didn't really know her that well. It was more of a… eye crush. Like when you see someone that you think is really cute. And you talk to them and you think you like them. It was like that."

"Oh."

"She's a really pretty girl. She's facially pretty and personality pretty. I just think I need to get to know her better. She might have big boobs, actually. But I don't know. It doesn't really matter to me anyway."

"How do you not know if she's busty?"

"I've never seen her in anything that wasn't baggy, so I don't know. Her boobs might be big. I don't really know, and I don't really care."

"Oh. Well, what was her name?"

"You want her full name or her nickname?"

"Either or."

"Her name's Demi."


	9. Judgment Day

"Demi!"

I twitch slightly and open up my tightly shut eyes. I grumble and shift my arms up by my head. My bed feels so good right now. I move my head just briefly and end up on a wet spot. I drool sometimes when I'm having a really good sleep. I breathe in through my nose and turn my head so that it's buried deep in my fluffy pink and purple fur pillow.

"Demi, get up!" I hear the clicking and clanking of something metal hitting something glass. I can sort-of tell that it's my mom, screaming and yelling and begging for me to get out of bed. I ignore her to the best of my ability and try to remain asleep. "Dallas, GOD! Come get this child out of bed!" She stomps out of my room.

What the hell does she want me out of bed so early for? I don't see how my sleep pattern is affecting her in any way, shape or form. She's the one that cared oh so much about me getting enough rest, remember?

"Alright, Demi get up. Come on." Dallas comes in my room sounding like she's been up for hours now. Either she really had to wake up early to deal with the baby, or it's actually really late in the day. I'm not sure which one is the right reason. "Come on, Demi. It's almost 11:30. Bubby and Nana will be here at noon, so get up."

I put my hands flat on my mattress and push myself up. "Mmm…. Fine." I yawn. Back in college, I usually sleep until at least 12:45. I sleep that late, because I'm able to. My first class doesn't start until 1:15 and it's right across the street from my dorm. "I'm just so tired…"

"Maybe if you weren't out until the crack of dawn last night, you wouldn't be so tired." She sits down at the edge of my bed. "So spill. Who were you with last night, and why?"

"…A friend." I get up out of my bed and walk over to my dresser. "We went out on this boat thing and then we went to In-N-Out, so… yeah." I grab a fresh pair of underwear from my drawer and a pink bra.

"…So you had a date." She gets off my bed and starts making up the sheets for me. "Who is she? Is she pretty? Is she that girl you had stay the night? Did you guys do anything?"

"No." I mutter. I don't want to tell Dallas, or anyone for that matter, about what's been going on between me and Joe. One, because I don't want to jinx anything that could possibly come of us. And secondly, I don't want to tell anyone that I seriously like a boy whenever I don't know if we are or ever will be serious enough to tell people about it. I'll tell my mom, I'll tell Dallas, I'll tell everyone about me and Joe IF and WHEN we become serious.

"No to what? No it wasn't that one girl or no you guys didn't do anything?"

"No to everything." I yank on a pair or of flare, light blue jeans after changing my underwear. I'm not allowed to "dress like a homosexual" when my grandparents are around. I used to be totally opposed to calling my grandparents homophobic, but they totally are. Since I'm not allowed to dress the way I want to, my mom wants me to make it a point to wear girly colors and "dress as straight as possible." My mom is the furthest thing from homophobic (at least now she is), but she prefers me to obey the wishes of my grandparents because it'd be a whole fight and argument between them.

"So who were you with then? Tell me…"

Fine. I'll tell her. But no details. "….I went with my friend. HIS name… is Joe." I put on the only bright pink shirt I own, my pink Abercrombie shirt with lime green lettering. "And no, we didn't do anything." I sit down on my bed and cross my legs, waiting for her to comment.

"…So you were with a BOY?! I thought…. Aren't you… gay? Are you guys really just friends?"

"See, Dallas! That's why I didn't want to tell you! You're making this huge big deal out of it and… that's just why I didn't want you to know." I have that lump in my throat that I always get right before I'm about to cry. I'm already as confused as I can be. I don't need her to be asking me questions about it.

"Demi… it's okay. If you like guys… you like guys. If you're just friends, that's cool too. It's okay… I didn't know it was that serious to you. It's just a date…"

"No, it's not! It's not just a date! It's not anything!"

"Dems, be cool. Be cool. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry." As if I don't already accept her sincere apology, she walks over to me with open, outstretched arms. "I really didn't mean to offend you, baby."

I take her silent offer and lean forward, rocking into her arms. I don't ever try to look like such a baby, but sometimes, I could really use a good hug. I place my hands flat on her back and she massages the back of my head, a comforting gesture. I don't know why, but sometimes I just feel like I can burst into a million tears at the drop of a hat. I haven't quite figured out if that's a negative or positive thing yet. I snivel and close my eyes hard to avoid the oncoming of tears.

"So what's he like? Is he nice to you?" She rubs my back and leans back to look in my eyes and let me know that she's being genuine. "Did he pay for your food?"

I sniff and wipe the tears away hard with the back of my hand while I nod. "Yeah." I sniff again. "He's… really nice. And he has a little brother with epilepsy… that he's really close with. And… and he's in the National Guard. He's only home for the holidays. And he doesn't want to have kids… he's three years older than me… I think."

"Aw…. He sounds like he's a really good guy..." She finally lets me go from her embrace. "He know you're gay?"

"No. That's not usually the first thing I tell people, Dal. And don't use that word. I hate that word."

"…You prefer lesbian? Bisexual?"

"I prefer the term 'human.' Why does it even matter what I like? I hate the whole labeling thing." I shrug and kneel down to grab a pair of socks from my bottom drawer. "Why can't I just like what I like and that be the end of it? Especially when it comes to Bubby and Nana. I don't see why it matters."

"Because it's 'not morally right', Demi. You know that. The almighty bible says to love everyone except the homosexuals. I told you that, didn't I?" She comments in a tone that is of sheer mockery in terms of my grandparents. If I had a nickel for every time I heard my grandparents use the terms "homosexual" and "good morals", I'd be a motherfucking billionaire. Maybe even a trillionaire.

"Fuck the bible." I mumble under my breath and yank on a pair of black socks with rainbow smiley-faces on them. My aunt bought these socks for me last Christmas. I think the rainbow pattern is supposed to symbolize that she recognizes my "gay pride", but she still somehow manages to make it a point to quote the fucking hellbook every time she's around here. I'm not a deep, sadistic devil-worshipper or anything, I just really hate the bible. I don't believe in any of the bullshit it preaches, but I really just want to love God, and feel like he loves me back.

"…I think Bubby and Nana are here. I'm gonna go take Carlo down to see them. Don't be too long." Dallas turns and leaves the room, leaving me alone.

I sigh and sit down cross-legged on my floor. I start chipping away at the remnants of the black nail polish I once had on. Bubby hates when I wear black nail polish. She thinks it's another one of my "queer quirks." I really hate hiding who I really am in front of them, but after the fifth time being called a "taco-bumper" by my grandfather, I really just learned how to pick and choose my battles with them.

I shove my thumb into my mouth and gnaw the little bit of black off my thumbnail. Surprisingly, it only took three attempts to get my parents to accept the fact that I'm not straight. I thought they'd be my toughest critics, but really, all it took was one sip of water and thirteen little capsules of Tylenol PM and a three-month stay at the hospital to change their minds. I shit you not when I tell you that I learned all my gay slurs from my parents and grandparents.

I try not to hold a grudge against my mom and dad, because deep down, I know that they really do love me. But every time I see the twist and looks of disgust on their face that occasionally sweep by when the memories of me being caught in the basement with another girl run back past them, I can't help but feel a little pissed that they wouldn't already just accept me. And even when I do start to doubt the fact that my mom really loves me, I just think about whose fingers were stuck down my throat to make me throw up four of the thirteen Tylenols.

I push myself up off my floor and grab my bottle of perfume off my dresser. It's the same perfume Nana bought me for my eighteenth birthday. It's called "Girly Love n Spice". I rolled my eyes at the name when I opened it, but I think she'd genuinely appreciate it if I smelled like it when she hugs me. So I spray three puffs of it on my body and slam my door when I leave out my room.

I run down the steps, holding my disgustingly big boobs while I run. It feels so weird not to have a sports bra on while I'm in the house. If it were up to me, I'd wear a sports bra anyway, but I agreed to refrain from all "lesbian-ish" activities and accessories.

"Demetria. How nice of you to finally join us." My grandma looks at me from head to toe, obviously looking for a reason to condone my clothing. With a bright pink shirt and the lightest pair of jeans I own, I don't think she can find a reason to bitch at me.

"Hi Nana." I smile halfheartedly and give her a weak hug. I kiss her on her rosy, wrinkly cheek and I let her kiss me on mine.

"Oh, Demetria. You smell like a man. Better change that laundry soap." She pats my back. I roll my eyes so hard they should roll out of my skull. Who was I kidding? It's my Nana. She can find a reason to bitch at me no matter what. It's one of her hidden talents. I shoot my mom a look across the hallway and she purses her lips. "Look at my Dallas, growing so nice and pretty. And my Madison…" She puts her hand on Maddie's back and kisses the top of her head. "You're shootin' up like a little flower."

"And none for Demi." I mouth to Dallas. Dallas smiles softly, showing no teeth. I already know that my grandparents despise me, I just wish they'd make a better effort to hide it.

"Demetria, why do you have those holes in your jeans? You ought to throw those out. It's hardly ladylike." Nana touches my hair and yanks loose a curl. "Oh, you curled your hair. You've got such pretty hair without all that blue hair dye in it."

Okay, I lied. I really don't want to sit here and listen to the "Bash Demi Show." On this week's episode, we're dealing with annoying, over-religious, super judgmental grandparents! Starring: Sue Hart as annoying ass grandmother number one. Stay tuned audience!

"Why don't you head into the kitchen and help your mother with brunch, Demetria?" Nana walks past me and straight to Maddie. I bite my tongue and walk into the kitchen.

"How do you shut your mother up?" I ask my mom immediately, grabbing the fine china plates from the top cabinet. I change my tone to mimic my grandma's condescending demeanor. "Oh, Dallas you're so pretty! My little pretty Madison! Demi, Dammit why'd you wear pink! You suck at life! You're such a screw up and an embarrassment to this entire family, my carpet-munching granddaughter is dammed to hell!"

"Watch your mouth, Demi!" My mom snaps at me. "I'm not going to go through this with you today! I told you to just ignore them."

"ME?! YOU'RE NOT GONNA GO THROUGH THIS WITH ME?!" I slam the plates down on the table hard enough that one shatters. "My grandmother just told me that I smell like a dude and she called me unladylike. My grandfather didn't even say hi to me."

"DEMETRIA!" She puts her hands on my shoulders and squeezes. "I KNOW, baby. I KNOW. And I'm SORRY that they don't get it. And you SHOULDN'T have to listen to them degrade you. But honey… they're my parents. I'm so sorry…. But you just have to deal with it. Just… put your headphones in your ears or something. Just ignore them, baby. I'm sorry. But they only visit once every three months. I understand you're frustrated. I understand. But please…. Just tune them out…. For me."

"….You can always tell them to shut the hell up, you know. You can always tell them to leave me the hell alone." I rip myself out of her hold and pick up the pieces of the broken plate. No, my mom doesn't understand my frustration. She will never understand.

I throw the pieces of the plate into the trash and take the survivors into the dining room to set the table. I replace the broken plate with a plastic plate that Madison can just eat off of. I'm awful glad that our house is so big that my other family probably didn't hear the argument we just had. My mom puts the spread of food in the middle of the table and acts like nothing just happened. "Mom, Dad… Madison, Dallas, Rob and Eddie you can come and eat."

I plop down into my chair and hope that Dallas sits next to me. I'm not even hungry anymore. I'm too irritated to eat.

Just like I'd hoped, Dallas sits to the right of me and my dad sits on my left. My mom sits across from my dad, Madison sits next to her and Rob sits beside Dallas. My grandparents both sit at the heads of the table. I remember to do as my mother says, so I take my napkin and fold it into my lap like a woman should.

"Dianna, this looks delicious." Is the first thing I hear my Bubby say. I'm glad he isn't talking much, because believe me when I say, the shit that comes out of his mouth is far worse than the shit I have to tolerate from my Nana's mouth.

"Thank you Dad. You should try the quiche. It's a new recipe."

I feel like standing up and screaming. I'm so sick of them already and they just got here. Dallas and I have this special sort of connection, because she senses what I'm feeling. And with the balls she has that I don't, she asks them what I've been dying to know. "So how long are you staying?" She stabs her fork into a potato pancake.

"Oh, just until Monday. We thought that we'd stay for two days this time." Bubby answers Dallas's question. "Since we're staying for the Lord's Day, you'll have to take us to your church tomorrow, Dianna. Sound like a plan?"

"We don't go to church on Sundays anymore, Dad. We just… opted out of it. Instead, we usually just have leisure day. Nobody leaves the house, nobody comes in. We just rest." My mom tries to brush it under the rug like it's no big deal.

"Oh no, no, no, Dianna. You best get these kids to church. Has my little Madison ever been to church? It's never too young to praise the lord." My Nana butts in and says, adamantly. Translation: Dianna, you've already fucked up raising a fanny basher and a whore with a bastard son, let's get Madison to church before you fuck her up too.

"Mom, we just decided that church isn't really for us anymore. We're just not church people. You respect that, don't you?" My mom tries again. I can tell by my Nana's expression that she's not taking this explanation with a grain of salt.

"Dianna, just because of Demetria's… condition, doesn't mean that you have to stop finding the lord. You know what the bible says…"

"Mom, I don't need you to quote the bible."

"I'm just saying…"

Bubby steps into the conversation. "Di, what your mother is trying to say is…. Just because you've raised a daughter that's committed the…. Ultimate sin doesn't mean that you're in for eternal damnation. Demetria's condition has nothing to do with the rest of your family."

I can't hold back anymore. "My _condition?_ What, do you think I'm sick? I like girls, I'm not on my fucking deathbed." I push my chair out from the table. "Screw that. I'm leaving. I hate this… I hate this family. I'll be back later." I get up from the table and go straight downstairs to the garage. I'm not staying there with that. I'm not staying there just to be ostracized and downgraded by my own family.

I snatch my mom's keys off the rack beside the garage door and leave.

* * *

"They really just don't understand. They look at me like I'm some sort of abomination… and they hate me because of it." I sniff and wipe my dribbling nose. "It just sucks, because all I want is for them to leave me alone… just once." I stare up at the ceiling, trying to make pictures out of the patterns in the ceiling paint. I follow the ceiling fan with my eyes until it makes me dizzy.

"People suck. Especially when they judge you for things they don't know anything about… it's like they think they know everything… but they really have no idea. It's like they think everything is easy but it's really not. It really is annoying." She props her elbows up on her bed and sighs.

"I really don't think they understand. My grandparents think that it's just so easy. They think they could send me to a camp and I'd be straight all of a sudden. As if me liking girls is the worst thing that could have ever happened to them."

"Don't cry, Demi." She hands me a tissue. I lock my eyes on her skinny, light brown wrist. The skin on her wrist is flawless except for a big, purplish ring around the place where her palm meets her wrist. It looks pretty painful. "Just don't cry. It's not worth it."

"…You're probably right." I sniff again and dot my eyes with the tissue. "I just wish I wasn't gay…"

"And I wish I could get Travis to stop pounding on me…" Selena crosses her legs and looks down at her purple spotted arms. "Better my arms than my face, I guess." She shrugs. "Let's stop with the heavy." She stands up and shuts her light off. "I feel so silly bringing you here…. my house is nothing compared to yours."

"…I like it." I stand up too and look around her room. Everything in it is a different shade of bright green. Every poster on her wall is of either One Direction, Justin Timberlake or Katy Perry. It looks like a teenage girl's room is supposed to look. I wonder if her parents are aware that Travis beats her the way he does. But then again, it's none of my business.

"…Let's go do something…." She suggests. "There isn't shit to do in Inglewood, so we'll have to go back to Oceanside… you have any suggestions on what to do?"

"Uh… I could show you the beach, if you'd like. It's too cold to go swimming, but we can always go to the boardwalk festival. It's always really fun. You ever have deep fried Oreos?" I stomp my feet back into my shoes and grab my cell phone.

"Deep fried Oreos? No, I can't say that I have… sounds disgusting." She tunes her nose up and grabs her purse.

"They're amazing, let's go. You HAVE to try them." I grab my car keys off her dresser and head out the door. I was secretly hoping that her mom, stepdad and little sister would have been home so that I could meet them. But I guess that's what I get for coming over so unannounced. I didn't tell her that I was coming over. I just got into the car after I left home, and Selena's place was the only logical place I could think to go.

"Okay, we can go."

* * *

"Demi, are you a virgin?" Selena walks beside me, munching on her third corn dog. She's so skinny, but she can really pack some food down. Her stomach is like a bottomless pit. "Sorry to ask so bluntly, but I've really been wondering like… how being a lesbian works."

I sip my purple slushie. "No. I'm not a virgin. I haven't had sex with a guy, though. I've never done that."

"Then how do you know you don't like boys?"

"I'm not physically attracted to guys…. Except maybe one." I throw my slushie away and keep walking. "Having sex with a guy is just… you know… not something that interests me. I just prefer girls, because girls know what I like. Like… they have the same parts as me so they know how to satisfy me and stuff."

"You said you're attracted to one guy, though. So like… are you really just bi?"

"I think. It's weird, because like… I've hung out with him. The guy I'm attracted to, I mean. And it's weird, because when I hang out with him, I don't like girls at all. But when I'm not with him I like girls. It's weird. So maybe I am just bi."

"You hung out with the guy? Who is he?"

"You remember that guy we ran into at Walmart when you stayed over my house? Him."

"OH! The real cute army-looking guy with the huge muscles?! He's cute!"

"Yeah, I know. He's like… super cute. I went out on a boat with him last night… and he's all I've been thinking about. Literally, ALL I've been thinking about."

"Why don't you just text him or something? If he's all you think about…"

"I dunno. I just get nervous. Like… I wonder sometimes if he's thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about him. It just like… scares me. I've never had to be… attractive to guys. You know?"

"Well it can't be any different than being attractive to girls. You're pretty, Demi. Like… really pretty. So it wouldn't be that hard for you. If he likes you, then he'll like you for you. Does he like you?"

"I think so. He's nice to me and he said he has a crush on me. I want to say that I have a crush on him too, but it's so hard for me to actually admit that I like him when I'm not sure exactly how I feel about guys. I think I have a crush on him too, Selena. But how do you tell?"

"Well…" She crosses over to the other side of the boardwalk and sits down at a picnic table. I sit down next to her. "If I didn't know that you were gay… just hearing the way you talk about him, I'd say you have a crush on him. I know how like… I know how confusing this probably is for you. But seriously, Demi. Just follow your heart. I know I'm not super close to you. And I know I'm not your best friend, but I really want to see you happy."

"That's not true, Selena. You are my best friend. Like… I have another best friend named Marissa. But she's kind of… annoying. I kind of like hanging out with you more than her. And you give me good advice."

Selena smiles. "Thanks. You're my best friend too…"

It's really different with Selena as opposed to Marissa. Marissa seems like she likes seeing me down or something. Selena seems like she genuinely wants the best for me. I actually do think that Selena's above Marissa on the best friend scale.

She just gave me the courage to text Joe first.


	10. Beliefs

**8:30 P.M.**

_Me: hey! _

I send the text message with rocketing feelings racing through my stomach. I typed it with shaky fingers. I wipe my hands on the seat of my jeans and sit down on my bed. I'm really not too happy to be home, but I don't plan on associating with anyone downstairs. I'm pretty sure my grandparents know how pissed off I am with them. If they don't know, then I'm sure my silent treatment when I came home wasn't too subtle.

I put my phone on my dresser and take off my clothes. I don't plan on going anywhere else tonight, so I grab my yellow spongebob shirt and the matching pair of pants. My grandparents will probably be heading back to their hotel room in a little, so I don't have to stay holed up in my room for long.

I take off my bra and put the pajama shirt on. I yank the pants on and tie the strings around my waist. I guess I could do some sociology homework while I wait to let myself out from my makeshift prision. I grab my orange sociology book off my desk and flop down on my bed with it. My phone vibrates on my leg.

With shaky, sweaty, clammy fingers, I unlock it and smile very wide whenever I read what it says.

**8:45 P.M.**

_Him: Hello :)_

_Me: what's up? _

_Him: Absolutely nothing. Just got out of the shower b/c I cut the grass today. Hbu?_

_Me: just got home from visiting my friend in iw. we went to the boardwalk fest._

_Him: That's cool. I was gonna take Frank to the fest tonight but he's sleeping at his friend's house. So ill prob go out and grab a bite to eat or somethin._

_Me: oh. are you lonely without Frankie?_

_Him: Xtremely. Hes like my best friend lol. So now I got nobody to keep me company_

_Me: haha. i can keep you company! am I good enough to keep you company?_

_Him: Of course u can keep me company. ur perfect ;)_

_Me: perfect? haha what do u want to talk about? & thanks. _

_Him: np. but idk what do u want to talk about?_

_Me: u wanna finish our game of 20q?_

_Him: Sure. but its my turn ok?_

_Me: okay._

_Him: whens ur birthday?_

_Me: 8.20.92. im an august baby._

_Him: weird, me too. 8-15.89. :)_

_Me: that's so weird. but um…. what do u usually do with girls u have a crush on?_

_Him: I talk to them. text them. and apparently I play 20 questions with them! _

_Me: so u were serious when u said u had a crush on me? :0_

_Him: Yea. more and more each day tbh. I think abt u alot. Is that weird?_

_Me: …_

_Him: ?_

_Me: …_

_Him: so it is weird. sorry. :(_

_Me: don't be sorry! Im just… shocked._

_Him: y?_

_Me: bc I think about u a lot too. i didn't kno u felt the same…_

_Him: O. so I guess it's my turn. Same q. what do u do with guys u crush on?_

_Me: uh…. Idk. I havnt really crushed on a guy before until now tbh. _

_Him: WHAT_

_Me: shhhhh :b_

_Him: lol. _

_Me: I have to ask. How do u feel about… gays? :/_

_Him: y?_

_Me: bc it's my turn to ask u._

_Him: idrc abt them tbh. if ur gay ur gay if ur not ur not you know? it dnt really matter to me. it don't change the way I look at ppl. why u put the :/?_

_Me: idk._

_Him: hbu? _

_Me: i love gays… _

_Him: have u ever dated a gay guy?_

_Me: i haven't dated ANY guy._

_Him: oh really? Lol well have u ever dated anyone?_

_Me: ….yeah._

_Him: u dated girls? :O_

_Me: yeah._

_Him: so ur a bisexual?_

_Me: idk I don't like to put a label on it. i guess I like both yeah_

_Him: that's hot ;)_

_Me: srsly?_

_Him: ya. That's hot ;) ;) but um…._

_Me: what?_

_Him: lets just say that u and me dated. u wouldn't cheat on me with a girl tho right?_

_Me: I don't cheat on anyone._

_Him: ok good. what r u doing now?_

_Me: homework -.-_

_Him: wanna take a break?_

_Me: from what? Homework or txting u?_

_Him: homework obviously_

_Me: sure I guess._

_Him: k. I'll be outside ur house in 10 mins. B ready :)_

_Me: okaaaay :)!_

Suddenly, I'm not so nervous anymore. And I don't know why, but I really want to dress up. I want to look really nice for Joe. I feel… different. But I'm just gonna go with it. I'm not going to ruin this for myself. I'm going to take Selena's advice and follow my heart.

I don't know what to wear. I have no idea what I'd look cute in, but pink seems like it's a pretty… girly color, so if I'm trying to be attractive I should probably wear pink. I don't own much pink. The only kind of pink I own is the kind from Victoria's Secret, and ironically enough, all the PINK stuff I own isn't actually pink, it just says PINK on it. I go through my closet, searching.

Finally, I stumble upon a dark blue shirt with bright pink plaid lines streaking across it. I look at it a little harder and finger the heavy flannel-like material. I guess this will do. I take it off the hanger and throw my t-shirt down after I take it off. I'm not sure where Joe is taking me, but when I came in the house from being with Selena, the weather was pretty nice out for a typical December day. So I go over to my shorts drawer and grab the only pair of light blue jean shorts I own. All my shorts are dark blue jeans, and I don't know why I never got around to buying more pairs of light ones.

I wriggle the shorts up to my waist and button them up. I'm not sure if Joe would actually care if I dressed nicely or not, but I think that it's always good to be presentable around people you may like. I leave on my flimsy padded bra instead of changing it for a sports bra and put on a bright pink cami.

I would curl or scrunch my hair, but I won't, only because it took me a good two hours to straighten it, and I don't plan on messing up the straightness until it gets too greasy that I must wash it. So, I leave my hair straight, free to rest on my much-too-far-sticking-out boobs. I'm so used to being in a sports bra where my boobs are virtually the same level as my stomach. Without the sports bra, they stick out significantly more than my stomach does.

I decide to go makeup-free and put on my plaid button up. I don't feel like rummaging through my shoe closet to find pink or dark blue flip flops, so I just slide on the white ones I already had on to go to Selena's. I grab my phone, shut off my TV and lights and go downstairs.

"Where are you going, Demi?" My mom asks as soon as she sees that I'm dressed. I'm still extremely irritated with EVERY member of my family, and I must warn anyone that when I'm pissed off with you, whatever comes out of my mouth is beyond my control.

I don't even look over into the living room at her. I keep walking straight, continuing on the way to be out the front door. "None of your goddamn business." I grab my house key and slam the door behind me. Joe said he'd be here in ten minutes, so I hope he isn't going to be much longer.

I honestly expect to be grounded or something when I return home, but then again, I'm eighteen years old and graduated from high school. She can't ground me. The only punishment my mother can try to give me is a slap to the mouth in which she'd NEVER do. You see…

My grandma used to drink pretty bad back when my mom was a child. When my mom was about eight or nine, my grandma used to beat on her and my aunt and uncle pretty bad. The bottom row of my mom's front teeth are all jacked up because my grandma bashed her in the face with a frying pan once. My grandma went to AA, she had to do a bunch of parenting classes to get her kids back, and by the time my mom was thirteen, my grandma was a changed woman. I find it pretty ironic that she used to beat on her kids like that, but now she's a "woman of the Lord." She used to be Monster Mommy, yet she can judge me for kissing girls?

Regardless, my mom was abused as a child, so she made a vow to herself that she would never so much as raise her hand to us. And she honestly never has.

A big white Ford Escape pulls up in front of my house. It's not the same truck Joe took me home in last night. This truck is way… WAY nicer. Joe puts the car in park effortlessly, waiting for me to come down off my porch and join him. When he rolls his front windows down, I can hear bits and pieces of the song and the booming bass from the car. I think he's listening to Mercy, but I won't know until I actually get in.

I walk around the front of his car and pull the door handle. I climb up into the truck and sit down. It smells like him in here. I think this actually must be his car. I chew on my bottom lip as I feel my stomach start to turn in knots. Why does my stomach hurt every time I come around him?

"Hey." He smiles softly. "We have to go pick Frankie up from baseball practice… then it's just you and me. Kay?" He puts the car in drive and pulls off into the road. "You look really nice…"

"Thank you." I smile back. "…Where are we gonna go? I brought money this time around…"

"I was thinking we could go grab something to eat… somewhere a little more formal than In-N-Out." He chuckles. "You won't be needing that money, though." I stare at his perfect countenance. His profile is so perfect, as if the angels carved him out of stone. His jawline is perfectly squared off before rounding his chin in a symmetrical soft circle. His eyes are the most brilliant shade of light brown I've ever seen. He's… perfect.

"…Why do you insist on paying for everything?" I finally ask, pulling myself out of deep memorization. "I brought money so you don't have to spend everything on me." I tuck my hair behind my ear and play with the rubber-band fishtail bracelet that Madison made for me. She made it yellow and pink for me. I'm glad it matches my outfit.

"Because I'm kind of… old fashioned, in a way. When I'm on a date with a girl, I pay for everything. It's the… right way to do things." He turns his wheel onto the street that leads to all the school campuses. I thought I'd never have to see OHS again, but here I am going with Joe right back to my Alma Mater.

"Well… you don't always have to pay for me." I clear my throat. "So, does Frankie play school baseball?"

"Nah. It's recreational. But his team uses the school field to practice and play." He sighs, and it seems like he's sighing at something that's saddening him. I want to ask him what the matter is, but before I can even ask, he speaks again. "That's probably something I'll miss out on, though. Being that I don't want kids…"

"…What do you mean?"

"I'll never get to coach the soccer team… or the baseball team…. Football or basketball. I'll miss out on all that…"

"…Why don't you want kids? You're so good with Frankie and… it just seems like you'd want them…" I think Joe would make a good mom with his future wife. I probably won't marry Joe. It really doesn't matter to me if I marry him or not, as long as he marries someone that makes him happy. But I'm surprised that he doesn't want kids.

"….Listen, Demi. What I… do. What I am…isn't very… good, you know? I probably won't make for a good husband or a good daddy. That's all."

"What do you mean?!" I try my hardest not to sound too shocked or… agitated that he thinks that way. He'd be a perfect husband. And he'd be a perfect dad. I'm not sure what makes him think that.

"…Let's say I married… you, for instance." He grips the steering wheel hard, which makes it apparent to me that this is something he feels very strongly about. I just blush at the thought of marrying him. "Would you want to live the rest of our married lives worrying about me being overseas, getting shot at?" He puts the car in park when we pull up to the side of the baseball field. "What about if you got that call? How would you explain that to our child? That daddy wasn't coming home?"

He has a point there. I don't say anything. I'm speechless.

"I would never put my child or my wife through that." He shifts his stance so that he's facing me. I can't bear to look at him when I'm blushing the way I am. I still can't get the thought of marrying him out of my head. "Through the… _uncertainty. _I wouldn't do that."

"…So you just don't want them? A wife… kids? You just don't want them? What if you retire from the guard? You're gonna retire someday, aren't you? What about then? Will you just… be lonely? Since you don't want a wife and kids…" I lick my lips and look up. My eyes and his meet.

"I want a wife, Demi. I just don't want to have kids."

"I can respect that. I don't even have a reason… I just don't want kids." I clear my throat again. "So uh… I guess it really helps that you can't have kids though, huh? I mean, since you don't want them. It's best that you can't have them, right?"

"…Not necessarily. I mean… if I did decide to want kids, I'd like to have my own child, you know? I wouldn't really want to adopt one. But yeah, I guess it's best that it's impossible for me to have kids."

"Understandable."

I like the fact that Joe and I can talk like it's nothing. That's important to me. I really think I'm falling pretty hard for him.

Interrupting our peaceful silence is Frankie who suddenly opens the car door to the back seat and hops right in. "Don't get my seats dirty, little man." Joe mutters and puts his car in gear again. I miss the silence between us already. I don't want to sound all weird, but I like when I can be totally silent around someone, and the silence isn't awkward. It usually means I have a decent connection with them.

"Hiya, Demi!" Frankie exclaims like I'm his favorite person in the world. He even ignores Joe, which is something I haven't seen him do since I've known him.

"Hi Frankie…." He's treating me like I'm his favorite person, the least I can do is give him the same feedback. "How was baseball practice?" I talk to him in the same tone I talk to Madison in. They seem to be around the same age, so I think it's appropriate for me to talk to him like that.

"It was good." He reaches his dirty little hand up and taps Joe on the shoulder. "Jojo… guess what! I…. I… I hit the ball and…. And I got all the way to third and I'm startin' next week!" He gushes. This is easily the cutest thing I've ever seen.

"Woooow, buddy. Wow. That sounds great!"

"It is!"

This conversation is so cute.

Joe really would be a great father and husband…

But he's even more perfect for me because he doesn't want children.


	11. Addicted

"Do you still live with your parents?" I lean over a steaming bowl of potato soup and look into Joe's eyes. I thought I was going to be extremely nervous being alone with Joe, but I really enjoy it. Nobody's here to interrupt us. It's just me and him.

"Yeah. I have my own place, but it seemed pretty pointless to move out of my parents' house and into my own place when I'm never home for more than a couple weeks at a time. Plus, the place is so big… it's way too big for just me." He sprinkles salt and pepper into his chicken noodle soup.

"Oh really?" I take a spoonful of my soup and chew a piece of potato before I swallow it. "What is it? A house? Apartment?" I swing my feet under the table. "How do you still pay on it? If you don't live in it, why would you keep paying on it? Mortgage is probably what… a thousand bucks a month?"

"No, I don't have to pay anything on it. It's a condo down on Costa Pacifica Way. Being in the guard comes with its own little perks. My condo is my place, and I don't have to pay a thing on it, ever. The naval base pays for my condo. I might use the condo some other time… like when I have a serious girlfriend to move in with me. But right now, it's just too much for one guy."

"I understand. Is it nice? Do you even have furniture in it?" I grab my iced tea and take a long sip of it. "I just think it's weird that you have a house that you don't use."

"It looks like any other house. It's… big and it's nice. And I have furniture in it. I just don't live in it. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, laundry room, kitchen and big living room. Pool in the back complex. Just like a house." He sips his drink too and gives me a smile. "What's your dorm like? You go to UCLA, right?"

"Yeah…" I shrug. "I live in a suite style dorm. I have my own room, my own kitchen and my own bathroom. I don't have a roommate. It's all me."

"A suite? That sounds fun… what class is your favorite?"

"My psychology class." I push my soup away and sit back with my hands folded. "It's really interesting. Like… it's the only class I don't feel like falling asleep in." I giggle, then return to all seriousness. Ever since I told him, it's been bugging me. I want to know what he REALLY thinks. "…You really think it's hot that I like girls?"

He puts his head down and laughs so hard that he loses his breath. "Yes, Demi. I really do think it's hot. I just don't want you to… you know… cheat on me with a girl…"

"Cheat on you?" I totally interrupt him before he can say another word. "Don't we have to be dating in order for me to cheat on you?"

Before he can answer me, his cell phone starts buzzing so violently that the whole table moves with it. I don't know why, but I'm so annoyed. I know Joe isn't technically mine, but I just want to be with him by myself with NO interruptions.

He picks up his phone, slides his finger across the touch screen and puts it to his ear. "Yeah, mom?" He sighs, and for a moment, I think that he's just as annoyed as I am at the sudden interruption. "I'm at Panca's with my friend." I think he thinks that I'll take the "friend" comment too seriously, because he reaches across the table and grabs my hand. "Well Frankie's gonna have to wait a second, ma. I'm in the middle of something…"

I shake my head at him to let him know that we can leave if he needs to. I'm not more important than his family, so if he's needed elsewhere I insist that he go. He puts his index finger up and scrunches his eyebrows as if he's struggling to hear on the phone. Though I didn't say anything, I press my lips together and shut up. It's crazy how fast I'm able to read Joe, being that I've only known him for a little less than a week. I can tell that he doesn't want me to think he's being rude, because he traces his thumb along the knuckles of my finger.

"Alright, I'll be right there. Just tell him to hold on." He takes one last sip of his drink and stands up. He uses his index finger to motion for me to follow him. I don't get up from my seat, though. He hangs up his phone and slips it inside his pocket. "Demi, come on…"

I shake my head again. "No, I can stay here. You go ahead and deal with your family. I'll get my sister to come pick me up. Seriously, go ahead."

"Demi, I'm not leaving you here. Anything could happen to you. I'm not leaving you here without me…" He grabs my hand and pulls me up out of the booth. "I'd never sleep again if I let something happen to you, girl. I'd lose my mind. Come on." He locks his hand around my wrist and pulls me.

"…Okay." A smile cracks across my lips. "What do you have to go do?" I yank my wrist free of his grasp and replace it with my own hand. He interlocks our fingers and pulls me so that I'm standing close to him. "Are you gonna take me home first?"

"I've gotta go take Frankie to his friend's house, because my mom and dad have to head off to my dad's release dinner." When we get to his car, he opens the door for me and helps me inside. "And no, I'm not taking you home. Why would I do that? Then I'd have nothing to do…" He shuts my door and walks around to the driver's seat.

"…When you say release dinner… what do you mean?" I strap my seatbelt across my body and rest my head on the headrest. "Is that for like… his job?"

"Yeah." After he straps his seatbelt, he starts his car and puts it into gear. "My dad just released his third book. He's a novelist…. And my mom does the research for most of his stories." He makes it sound so simple. He must see the confusion written clear across my face, because he speaks up to elaborate. "My dad writes fiction crime stories. My mom's a forensic specialist, so a lot of her researches serve as a base for my dad's stories. They sort of work together."

"That's cool…" I nod. That is really cool. Here I get stuck with an eye doctor and a caterer. His parents sound so cool.

"What about your parents?" He speaks, taking the thoughts from my head. "Your house doesn't look like you come from a bad family. Your parents are what? Billionaires or something like that?" He turns onto a road that leads to a part of Oceanside that I've never been in before. I'm guessing this is the way to his house.

"Uh… no. Not even close." I stare out the window trying to familiarize myself with the area. "My dad's an eye doctor. He owns he Eyesight Center down in Carlsbad. And my mom…." I try to think of a way to make my mom's job sound more interesting. "You know Dianna's? Down on Vista Way? Dianna's Delicious Dishes, it's called."

"The place with the REAL good cupcakes and the only Italian buttercream icing? I LOVE that place, and so does my mom… your mom work there?"

"Something like that…" I clear my throat. "She's Dianna. She owns the place."

"…No way! My mom is ALWAYS in there. It's the only place she buys bread. Cause your mom makes it fresh. My mom gets all the bread and the frozen chicken from your mom's store."

"Yep. That's my mom's business." I nod. "I work there in the summer. Me and my older sister used to work there all through high school. I'm surprised you never saw me there. I was ALWAYS there in the summer. I had to make the gelato and the custard."

"I might have seen you there…. I don't really pay attention. Can you cook like your mom?"

"…I know a lot of her old recipes…" I chuckle, looking over at him. He holds the steering wheel so effortlessly with one hand. He's perfect. In every way possible… he's perfect.

"You're gonna have to cook for me." He smiles and turns up into a section of bricked road leading up to a really big house. His house doesn't seem like it's meant to be here in Oceanside. It's a grand Victorian-style house, standing as high as six school buses stacked on one another. The white fence wraps around the porch and the pillars are all an off shade of white and grey. It's beautiful.

"This is your house?" After he parks the car, I step out, marveling its beauty. I've never seen something so marvelous. I don't think I was meant to get out of the car, but I absolutely had to, considering the house's pure beauty. "Oh my gosh…"

"My parents… they really like old, classical things." He shuts his car door and approaches the steps. I stay right where I'm standing. "…Are you gonna come in? I won't bite you, and neither will Frankie…" He turns around on the step and waves his hand for me to follow him.

"…You want me to meet your parents?" Suddenly, I become very, very nervous. I dressed nicely, but not as nice as I would have liked to for the occasion of meeting his parents. And besides, isn't meeting the parents really serious? I don't even think we're past the friends yet.

"My parents are home. They left already. But even if they were home… what's wrong with that?" When I walk up next to him, he puts his hand on my lower back and caresses it. "Don't you want to meet my parents?"

"…It's not that I don't want to meet them. I'm just unprepared to." I lie my head against his broad shoulder. I don't understand why he makes me feel this way. I just feel so… natural around Joe. He makes it easy for me.

He keeps his arm on my waist and leads me inside the house. It smells like fresh paint and apple cinnamon in his house. Immediately inside, I notice how wide and open it is. The arch leading inside the living room is wide and spacious, and I gawk at the large window that the couch is resting against. He has a beautiful house.

"Fraaaank! You ready? Let's go, buddy." Joe's fingers tremble over my hip, trying hard not to violate me. His fingertips brush against my bare skin, soft. I close my eyes, losing my breath. His touch just… leaves me breathless. He turns his head and puts his mouth and nose against my head. I feel my hair drag as he inhales it. Why is he treating me like I'm the most important thing? "You want anything while we're here, Demi?"

"No." I make my arm mirror his, placing it on his waist too. He is significantly larger than I am, yet still so cuddly. I think I like him. And it's not the kind of like that's no big deal. I mean, I really… REALLY like him.

"Demi again?! Hi!" Frankie dashes down the staircase and greets me with a strong hug this time. Madison once told me that I had a very huggable personality. At first, I just thought she was being smart. But maybe she's right this time around. I reluctantly take my hand off Joe's waist to reach down and tousle Frankie's hair.

"Hi Frankie." I say.

"Hi, Demi. Are you staying the night with Jojo tonight?" He lets me go and looks up to me, his dark eyes glowing in anticipation for my answer.

I laugh softly. "No, honey. I can't stay the night with Joe tonight."

"Jojo really wants you to stay, though! He does!"

"Aww… well I'm very sorry for Jojo. But I can't…" I glance up at Joe. His cheeks are a tad bit rosy but other than that, he shows no emotion. "I would love to, but I can't…"

"Jojo wants you to stay so bad… he said your name last night when he was sleeping. He said 'Demi'… 'Demi'…. Last night. He wants you to stay…"

I can't help but giggle. "That's very sweet… perhaps some other time, though." I caress Frankie's hair again and rub his back. He's a sweet little kid.

"…Let's go, Frankie. Parker's probably waiting for you…" Joe grabs Frankie's blue Spiderman jacket and opens up the door. I walk out and down the steps behind the both of them. Frankie skips to the car and climbs in the backseat. I resume my position back into the front seat.

"…Jojo?" Frankie clicks his seatbelt shut and sits back like a good little boy against his seat. He swings his feet innocently and awaits Joe's reply.

"What, Frank?" Joe sounds as if he's getting sick of Frankie's questions, but I happen to think his antics are adorable. If Joe is getting annoyed, he does a pretty well job of keeping it under control.

"Is Demi your girlfriend?"

I look down and flush bright red. Though it's a good question, it's not something I was prepared for him to ask. Even worse yet, I'm not prepared for his response.

"A little bit." Joe answers short and straight to the point. Though I know his response makes no sense, I understand completely what he means.

Because if someone asked me if Joe was my boyfriend…

I'd probably say "a little bit" too.

* * *

His laugh is boisterous, loud, yet still so soothing. How is it that I can spend four hours with someone, and still long and yearn for more and more time? If I had been with Dallas for four straight hours, I'd be tired of her. If it were Marissa or even Selena, I might get a little sick of them. But it's Joe. And I know that our time together is drawing to a close, but I want nothing more than to spend all of my time with him. I don't mind it.

"What would your parents think if they knew you were over a boy's house all this time?" He presses the home button on the Wii remote for the millionth time, pausing the baseball game. By now, I think he's just looking for any reason to stop the game because I've been beating his ass at Wii baseball since the second inning.

"They wouldn't care. They would be happy, probably." I shrug and take a sip of the bottle of water Joe got for me almost an hour ago. I've never had this much fun with a guy, ever. I push the resume button and continue pitching to Joe.

"Really? They wouldn't be pissed?" He swings aimlessly at a splitter and misses. I don't know if he's letting me win or not, but I don't really want to know.

"…No. But if I said I was over a girl's house… they'd probably skin me alive and hang me over the fire place." I stand in my batter's stance and get ready to swing at what he throws to me.

"Oh, so they're that kind…" He pauses the game yet again and I glare at him. "Sorry that your parents are that way…"

"It's not that big of a deal. They aren't really that bad, my grandparents are." I sit down and pop a squat on the floor. "My grandparents are just super religious. And to them, being gay is like… the biggest sin ever." I take my shirt off, leaving me in just my cami. I really don't want to get pit stains sitting next to Joe, so taking off my shirt is the best option.

He sits down next to me. "Well I guess it's good that your parents accept you." He puts his finger on my bottle of water, asking for a sip. I give him the silent head nod and he twists the cap off to take a gulp. I've learned more about Joe in our four hours of being together today than I've learned about my nine year old sister in our nine years of being together.

"Well, yeah. But it took a lot for them to accept the fact that I found girls attractive." I take my water off him when he's done and take a sip too. I like the feeling of drinking off him. It makes me feel closer to him, if that makes sense. "They accepted me after a handful of Tylenol and a gulp of water."

"…What?" He wrinkles his eyebrows at me with a look of distaste. "…You tried to _kill _yourself, Demi?"

I nod. "But my mom stuck her fingers down my throat and made me throw up. Saved my life." I shrug. "I'm better now. They used to say things to me like "you're going to hell" and "you're damned." And I wanted to die knowing my parents thought that of me. I'm better though. I saw a therapist all through high school and I'm better now." My suicide attempt used to be taboo, but I don't mind talking about it anymore. It's in the past and that's that.

"…I'm so glad you didn't…" He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I'm SO glad you didn't…"

I smile. "Me too, actually." I put the empty bottle of water down on the table. "But anyway…. My parents accepted me after that. My mom even banned that one 'How To Save A Life' song. It made her cry too much. Literally. But it's still on my ipod…"

"By The Fray?"

"Yep."

"I sang that for a talent show when I was in middle school, and I won." He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Shit, it's getting really late. I'd better get you home before my parents get home." He stands up.

"WAIT…" I pull him back down to the floor, desperate to keep this moment. "No…. please. Can we just… wait?" I'm not sure that my grandparents are gone yet. I just want to stay until I'm sure they're gone. Dallas said she'd text me when they left. "I like being with you…" I excuse. I'm not lying though.

"…Well we've ran out of things to do, Demi…"

"…No we didn't. We can always talk."

"What do you wanna talk about?"

"…I don't know." I shrug and admit, defeated. Looks like I'm going to be going home.

"I have something to ask you, though Demi." He says.

"Ask then…"

"You didn't think anything of me when I told you that?" He looks down and plays with the lace on his boot.

"No… not at all." He's referring to what he told me earlier. I must admit, it's a bit troubling to know, but I don't think anything of it. I know he's not what he's trying to imply. It's not like he actually raped the girl. His friend did. I know it's wrong that he didn't say anything to the police about it, but it's not like he did it. Why would I think anything of him? He isn't judging me, I wouldn't dare judge him for that. I told you that Joe and I got to know each other pretty well over the past four hours.

He rocks up so that he's on his knees and in front of my face. "…You're amazing…"

I look up at him with a small smile. "So are you." I know what he wants, and I want it too. So, to speed up the process, I lean in and press my lips to his and let him take over. I've never kissed a boy before, but all my past girlfriends told me that I'm a good kisser, so it can't be much different… can it?

I'm really starting to get scared at how natural things are becoming for me. I'm starting to think I never really was a lesbian… maybe I was just a bit bisexual. Or even bicurious. I still find the male genitalia disgusting, yet I feel…. Sexual feelings for Joe. My head is the definition of fucked up.

Before I can even pull away, Joe's tongue is in my mouth, touching every corner and caressing my tongue with his own. His breath tastes like sweet peppermint. It's not different from kissing a girl at all. I just let my instincts take over.

I massage his tongue back with mine and push him so that he's not on his knees anymore. We're both sitting indian-style and full blown making out. I feel his nose let out breath on my upper lip. He's running out of breath. He puts his hands on my hips, and I bring mine up to his hair and curl my fingers through it. His hair is so thick.

I pull away briefly, allowing him to breathe. I catch my breath too, but I find myself eager and thirsty for more. I crush my lips back against his, putting my tongue in his mouth first this time. He grips my hips hard, pulling me close to him so that I'm against his rock solid body. Just when I think I'm in control, he pulls away from my mouth and aggressively plants warm, passionate kisses along my collarbone. His lips meet mine again, and he takes my bottom lip between his, sucking on it. I'm not used to being the submissive one. All the people I've kissed, I've been in control. I kind of like being the weaker.

His lips trace a trail back down to my neck. His cool breath crashes against my skin. He kisses my collarbone, just above my breastbone. "I've got to get you home now…"

I really don't want to go home. I'm addicted to kissing him. But I'm not in control anymore.

"Okay."


	12. Deserves

"Thanks for stayin' home with me, Dal." I slide down into my corner of the couch with my steaming orange bowl full of chicken flavored Ramen Noodles. I pull my knees in to my chest and rest my chin on top of my fluffy, yellow Spongebob decorated pajama pants. Dallas always finds it disgusting how I can comfortably sit almost anywhere with my chin rested on my knees. She says that "no one should be skinny enough to do that." I put my chin on my knee and twirl my fork around in my bowl.

"No problem. I really didn't feel like sitting in church with leaky boobs today anyway…" She crashes down on the opposite end of the couch and puts one foot on the coffee table and the other foot on Carlo's swing, rocking him with it. She chose something more practical for breakfast with frozen pancakes than my lazy Ramen Noodle meal.

I push the "page" button on the remote and go through the TV listings. Nothing's ever on on Sundays except for cartoons. "I thought you weren't breastfeeding Carlo, though?" I test my noodles with the tip of my tongue before shoving the forkful into my mouth. "I thought your milk dries up when you don't breastfeed…"

"It's taking a little long for it to dry up." She slices her pancake with her fork and gazes down at Carlo with a weary look. He's still fast asleep in his swing, his thick dark brown hair finally thinning out to properly distribute itself to the rest of his head. He's hairy, like a little monkey. His dark red racecar shaped pacifier isn't even moving, so I wonder if he's actually sucking on it. His long fingers rest atop his fluffy blue blanket. He's peaceful and oh so cute.

"Why don't you just breastfeed him? I hear it's healthier and helps him grow and stuff." I ask, pushing the "ok" button to turn on a rerun of The Boondocks. I know it's absurd to say, but Dallas sure doesn't act like she loves Carlo. Aren't new moms supposed to be like… super protective? She sort of acts like Carlo isn't even there sometimes. She doesn't ignore him or anything, she just… deals with him. No pet names, no extreme amount of kisses, no overwhelming urge to always have him in her arms.

"Because… that'd be so weird to have my son sucking on my titty… like I'm a cow or something…" She shudders. I wonder if she even fed him today. She didn't have a problem getting up to make herself some breakfast. Did she give Carlo his breakfast? She acted super protective his first few days home, but after that… it's sort of like he's an inconvenience to her. I could be wrong though.

"But it's good for him…" I know I'm probably about to start a huge argument, but I don't entirely care. I'm not going to accuse her of anything… I'm just going to ask. "Don't you care about what's good for Carlo? …If it's better for him to have breast milk… and it's free… why don't you just nurse him?"

She squints her eyes at me. "Of _course _I care about what's good for him. If I don't want to breastfeed him because I think it's weird, that doesn't mean I don't care about him… I take care of him, don't I? I care about what's good for him, Demi. I shouldn't have to breastfeed him to prove that…"

"…It's not just that though, Dal…" I shake my head softly, trying to think of a way to better explain to her what I'm trying to say. "I like… never see you hold him or kiss him. It's kind of like… he's no big deal to you… or something. When mom had Maddie… she like… held her all the time. Watched her sleep. Kissed her fingers and toes. Gave her little pet names and stuff… I just… haven't seen you do that with him." I'm not worried about pissing Dallas off, because I know that I'd have to berate her for a long time in order to do that. She's unnaturally calm in nature, it takes a bunch to even get her to raise her voice above her usual tone.

"…Demi, shut the fuck up. Seriously." She looks at me like she's disgusted, as if I just did something repulsive. I must have really crossed the line to make her swear at me. "I love my son. You're not… WITH me every minute of the day. You're not in my room at night." She rolls her eyes. "I sing to him all the time… I even made up a song for him. And he doesn't…. he doesn't sleep in his crib. He sleeps on my chest… I… I BITE his hangnails off his feet for fuck's sake, because the nail clipper hurts him. When he…. When he can't sleep, I lie on the floor, holding his naked little body against my bare chest because he likes the sound of my heartbeat. Carlo is my life… that's my baby. So just shut the hell up."

Okay, she's right. I shouldn't have judged based on the things that I see. I obviously don't see it all. I was just saying what it seemed like to me. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. It just… you know. I didn't see it, so I just didn't think it was… there, you know?" I look over at her. She bends down and picks Carlo up from his swing. Her face is all red, like she's about to cry. "I'm really sorry, Dal. I didn't mean to…"

She holds his head to her mouth as she kisses his temple repeatedly. She's holding him in some kind of convoluted way that only a mother would be confident holding her baby in. How she's not afraid to drop him, I don't know. She even pulls the pacifier out his mouth to kiss his tiny little pink lips, and I swear I see a tear escape the corner of her eye. IF she's crying, it's a big deal. IF she's crying, I swear this will mark only the THIRD time I've really seen Dallas shed a tear. IF she's crying, that is. "I just get so tired of being told that… Mom asked me if I loved him yesterday too… I guess I don't show it that much…"

"…Oh." So I wasn't the only one that picked up on the fact that she doesn't really express her love for him.

"…You know I don't like to… you know… show my feelings, Dem. You of all people should know that…." I just watch her mouth as she talks to me. She takes her finger and picks a booger from his nose. "I'm not good with showing my emotions… I never have been." She shrugs. "But I love him. I love my little nugget more than I love myself. I'd die a thousand times for him." Finally, she wipes away her tear. She WAS crying.

"I'm very sorry, Dal. I shouldn't have assumed." I put my empty bowl down on the coffee table. "So you said you sing to him… what do you sing?" I change the subject from the heavy. I don't want to make her cry anymore. "What's the little song you made up for him? I wanna hear it."

"No way I'm singing it. It's so… dumb. And it doesn't make sense. But it makes him smile." She looks down, blushing and smiling. Aside from Joe, Dallas probably has the most perfect smile I've ever seen. It's just the right amount of happy and calm. "Oh, yeah. How was your little shindig last night?" She diverts the attention from herself to me.

"…It was nice." I am practically bursting at the seams to tell her what went on between me and Joe, but I still won't tell anyone details, because I don't want to mess anything up. I'm happy with him, and I don't want to mess that up yet. I'll tell her all about it when I'm sure we're serious. "He's really nice. I think we might start dating, but I don't know yet. Nothing special." My heart is expanding just thinking about him. I contain myself, though.

"…That's good, Demi. I'm happy you're with someone to make you happy." She leans down and puts Carlo back in his swing. "Mom said the only way we could stay home from church is if we straightened up the house… so let's get going…" She puts my bowl on top of her empty plate and starts tidying up.

I get off the couch to help her. Even though the house is the farthest thing from dirty, my mom still wants us to clean up. She's sort of a neat freak like I said, and no clean is ever "too clean" for her. I turn on the music choice station on the TV and go for the vacuum cleaner to sweep up the living room.

Dallas starts the water to wash the dishes that can't be put in the dishwasher. I find the nearest plug and stick the vacuum plug into it. I run the sweeper along every single inch of the carpet, even though there isn't a lick of dirt anywhere. Carlo winces but remains fast asleep. I swear, my mom would have a panic attack if there weren't constant vacuum lines in the carpets.

I take off the navigation part so that I can sweep under the couches. "I been tryin' to do it right… I been livin' a lonely life…I been sleepin' here instead…. I been sleepin' in my bed…." I start to sing along to the music that's playing through the TV to pass the time. I vacuum up a stray morsel of dog food from under the couch. "So show me family…. All the blood that I will bleed. I don't know where I went wrong, I don't know where I belong…. I can write a song." I clip the navigation part back onto the vacuum and wind the wire up to put it away.

Dallas comes in with a purple feather duster, beating on the thin air like it's a drum. She's such an animated person once you get to know her. "I belong with you… you belong with me you're my sweetHEART…. I belong with you… you belong with me you're my sweet…. HO! HEY!" I want to laugh so hard, but I continue to play along.

I spray the TV with Windex and wipe the invisible dust off it with a rag. "I don't think you're right for him….look at what it might've been. Took a bus to Chinatown… I'd be standin' on canal and bowery… and she'd be standin' next to me…"

Dallas dusts the pictures and the picture frames hanging on the wall. "1 2 3! I belong with you… you belong with me you're my sweeeeeeheart! I belong with you, you belong with me you're my sweetheart…."

I spray the entertainment stand with Pledge and shine it up. "LOOOOVE…. We need it now…. Let's hope for some… so we're bleedin' out…" Carlo's eyes pop open all of a sudden. He doesn't make a fuss, he just looks around with his big eyes. He's adorable.

Dallas stops dusting and bends down so that she's face to face with him. "I belong with you! You belong with me you're my Caaaaarlooooo." She substitutes his name with the lyrics. I think it's really corny, but then again, I've never seen Dallas act that way. "I belong with you… you belong with me you're my sweet…." She picks him up and holds him against her chest, which I find is really sweet. I kind of wish "Ho Hey" by The Lumineers was a longer song, because it was kind of cute to sing to Carlo, but the next song comes on immediately following the last note.

I love this song. In fact, I love A Rocket To The Moon. I saw them in concert about five times. I know Dallas doesn't particularly like ARTTM, but I dragged her to go see them with me anyway because Marissa couldn't go. She'll probably try to turn the song off, actually. But I start singing anyway.

I fluff the couch cushions and start. "Let's go out get lit, get loose tonight. Sing a song, get it wrong make it feel alright. Drinks on ice, stars in our eyes…. ain't got a lot of money but you're a dime…" I'm surprised she's letting me listen to it. Dallas HATES this band.

Out of the corner of my eye though, I see her dancing and swaying with Carlo to the beat of the song. I don't even get mad at her for not helping me clean. The sight is just too cute. "So hey, hey. All I need is a whole, whole lot of you. Every day, day is a holiday ain't nothing we can't do… now all I need baby is a little time and a whole lot of you…"

I can't believe she actually knows the lyrics to it. This is the second time in an hour that my sister has shocked the shit out of me. I walk over to Carlo to sing to him too. "Get me buzzed on your love, let me steal a kiss!" I kiss Carlo's cheek and he cracks a smile. "Bubblegum on your tongue no I can't resist… Gotta leave all your worries at the door…"

"Cause life ain't nothing but a big dancefloor!" She stops bouncing him around so much, but she keeps singing to him. I sing along with her.

"Now hey, hey all I need is a whole, whole lotta you. Every day ayy is a holiday ain't nothin' we can't do! Now all, all I need baby is a little time and a whole lotta you!"

To interrupt the big dancing and singing party we're having, the doorbell rings. I toss Dallas a couch pillow to fluff after she puts Carlo back in his swing so that I can go answer the door. We probably should have spent more time cleaning than singing and dancing, maybe we would've gotten done faster. Then again, we weren't expecting them to come home so early. They haven't even been at church that long.

I walk to the front door, swinging the rag I wiped the TV off with to the beat of "Pumped Up Kicks" which begins playing behind me. I turn the door handle and open up the door for my mom, my dad, Madison and probably my grandparents. "All the other kids with the…" The lyrics freeze on my tongue as I come face to face with who it really is. What. Is. HE doing here?

"Joe! I….. um…." I quickly put down the rag I was swinging. "Uh…." How COULD he do this to me?! I look like shit! I'm wearing a yellow shirt with a pocket on my boob , NO BRA and SPONGEBOB pajama pants. Not to mention my HAIR is in the sloppiest ponytail and I have my GLASSES on… with ELMO slippers. HOW COULD HE?!

A smile spreads across his face. "I'm sorry…." I watch as his eyes trace me up and down. I just lean against the doorframe, defenseless. "You weren't answering your phone when I called… so I decided to stop by to ask you in person instead. But if you're busy…"

"Demi, who's at the door?!" Dallas screams from the living room.

Oh, no. Dallas. I don't want her to meet him. Not like this. I step down and out onto the porch, closing the door behind me, my sweaty palm still gripping the doorknob. "No… I…. I'm not busy!" I let go of the knob. "…Ask me what?" I close my mouth and feel around at the thick layer of plaque on my teeth with my tongue. I haven't even brushed my teeth yet. Oh my goodness, I look terrible.

"Who's that?" He looks over my head, trying to see inside the house. He probably can't see much through the thick plexi-glass. The glass is cut and pieced together to make flowers on both sides of the door, and it's hard to see inside through it.

"No one." I shake my head quickly. "My sister…" I keep feeling at the plaque. "Ask me what?" I demand again. I really wish he would've warned me before showing up like this. Or perhaps he did warn me. My stupid ass left my cell phone upstairs on the charger.

"Frankie has a ball game today. I wanted to know if you wanted to come with us. We always go out for wings at Quaker after his ball games…" I can't tell if he's looking at me or my matted, knotty hair. I look a mess.

"Uh… with your parents? Are you… really sure that's a good… idea?" I shift my weight from my left leg to my right leg. I can't believe how perfect he looks and how crappy I look. He's all dressed properly and ready to go. I'm still in my night clothes.

"I'm certain it's a good idea. I already told them I wanted to bring a friend along… they said it's fine." He looks behind me again, seeing something that I don't. I turn slightly and see Dallas's shadow standing in front of the door. I close my eyes tight. I'm starting to develop a headache. "…Sister?"

I nod, irritated. I turn around and open the door back up just enough to yell through a crack. "I can see you standing there, whoreface." I grumble at her. She grabs the door and yanks it open herself. "Dallas, GO." I give her the look that says I mean business. Joe's busy looking at her, and she's looking back at him. I guess I'd better introduce them. Reluctantly, I step to the side. "Dallas, this is Joe. Joe, this is my sister." I mumble.

"Nice to meet you." Joe cracks a smile looking at her, then he looks back at me. "Nice of you to introduce us."

"Nice to meet you too." Dallas gives him a nod of approval. "…I'm gonna go finish cleaning up the living room. Demi, you should… invite your guest inside. It's pretty humid out here." She nudges me before disappearing back into the house. I roll my eyes hard. This is NOT how I wanted them to meet.

"Are you gonna invite me in?" Joe smirks at me, able to guess that he's getting on my nerves.

"…Just…" I open the door again and step up into the doorway. "Take your shoes off. My mom hates shoes on the floor." I mutter. I really hope Joe's gone before the rest of my family gets home. He follows my instructions, kicking his shoes off at the door.

"…Are you mad at me?" He puts his hand on my arm and stops me from walking away from him. His eyes bore into mine apologetically. Mad is honestly an understatement. But I'm not mad at him. I'm mad at myself for leaving my phone upstairs, and I'm mad at Dallas for insisting she meet him even though I CLEARLY didn't want her to meet him like this.

"…No, I'm not mad at you." I roll my eyes and stand in the corner next to the buffet in the hallway. To preoccupy myself, I grab the stick lighter and light the apple cinnamon candle my mom put on the table next to the house phone. "I have to… here. Just… go in the living room for a second. If there's a baby in there, don't touch it. I'll be right back." I point him in the direction of the living room and head off to find Dallas in the kitchen.

"I'm leaving out with him for a little while. When mom and dad come back, just tell them that I left out with a friend for a minute. Not a word to them about him, alright?" I look at Dallas, begging this one favor from her. I know she won't go against my wishes.

She looks at me with a smile. "He's cute, Dems. He's REAL cute. Why didn't you want me to meet him?" She scrubs the granite countertops with a sponge.

"I just didn't want you to meet him like this…" I roll my eyes. "I'm going to go get dressed. Just don't say anything to mom and dad about him, PLEASE."

"You know I won't." She winks at me.

I go back to the living room with Joe. He's sitting on the couch, innocently looking at Carlo down in his swing. Carlo is fast asleep. "…Hey. Come on." I motion for him to follow me. He gets up off the couch and walks behind me. I lead him up to my room so that I can get dressed. He sits down on my bed, looking around. "I'm going to get dressed. Don't… don't touch anything."

"I won't." He promises. I walk over to my closet and find some clothes to wear. I still can't believe that he showed up like this…

* * *

"You said you told your parents about me already?" I ask him. He parks the car and I step out into the crisp air. I wish I knew what it was like to experience snow, but the dry California air will do. I'm really nervous to meet his parents. I just didn't know we were that serious about each other. "Are you sure they're okay with me coming?"

"Demi, you're fine. You are. Just be yourself, my parents will love you. They're not… judgmental or anything. If you make me happy, you make them happy. Stop worrying, you're gonna make yourself sick." He puts his hands on my waist and kisses my forehead. "You're perfect."

I press my cheek against his chest and sigh. He thinks I'm perfect. "Even in my pajamas and my Elmo slippers?" I pull back and gaze up at him. He's wearing a dark brown polo shirt with the light brown Abercrombie moose in the corner. I put my hands on his black jeans.

"Especially in your pajamas and Elmo slippers." He leans down and kisses my temple where my hair clusters before falling down in straight strands down my back. It gets a little annoying having both Mexican and Italian roots, because my hair is so unbelievably thick. "Come on… the game's gonna start soon."

He grabs my hand and walks with me down to the baseball field. I take a deep breath and relax. I don't know why I'm getting so nervous to meet his parents. I made sure I dressed nicely. I'm wearing a dark blue strapless lace shirt with a brown flower belt that ties around the stomach. I have on white capris and brown flip flops to match them, and my hair is just straight down. I really tried to look nice.

We approach the benches and he sits beside a tall, lanky yet sort of round man and a short, thin woman with thick, shoulder-length black hair. The man has an unshaved but tame amount of facial hair and round glasses. He looks like the type that would write a decent book. The woman is undeniably pretty for her age, her face not even uttering a single wrinkle to reveal her age.

"Hey ma… dad. Game start yet?" Joe grabs my hand and helps me up on the bleachers. I cross my legs and try to appear ladylike. Joe's mom leans forward to look at me. "Oh, yeah. Mom, this is Demi. Dad, this is Demi. Demi, these two are my parents."

"Nice to meet you, honey." Joe's dad pats me on my back gently.

"Yeah, it is nice to finally meet you. You're all my little turtle's been talking about." Joe's mom leans forward again and extends her hand out to me. Her fingers are really slender and her wedding ring is absolutely gorgeous. Her nails are freshly manicured with a French tip. I shake her hand. Turtle? Is that like… a pet name for Joe?

"Turtle is Frankie." Joe whispers in my ear. "You ever watch the show about the turtle named Franklin?"

I nod. "Frankie's been talking about me?"

"The kid adores you, Demi."

Joe's dad nudges him on the back. "Look… Frank's battin'." He points to the batter's box.

Joe stands up like a proud father and cups his hands over his mouth. "Choke up on the bat, Frank! Choke up!" He yells down at Frankie. I can't help but smile. It's so cute. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that Joe was Frankie's father. Frankie stands there in the box and lets a ball whizz right past him. Strike one. "That's alright, Frank! You've seen it, now you're ready! Let's go!"

The pitcher winds up to pitch another ball. This time, Frankie swings at it and cracks the ball clear out to left field. I feel almost as proud as Joe does, so I clap and yell for him. "Good job Frankie!" I have a terrible yelling voice. I'm just not that loud of a person, no matter how hard I try.

Frankie slides safely into third base and dusts his white pants off. Through his helmet, I see him cheese and he gives Joe a big thumbs-up. Joe is still standing up, clapping as hard as he probably can. "See what happens when you choke up, bud?!" He screams down on the field. I giggle. This is the cutest little thing…

"Joe, sit down! I can't see through you. You're not a good window, but you're a lovely door, baby." Joe's mom pats his butt to make him sit. He is kind of standing in front of her. "I didn't even get to see Turtle's hit…"

"Sorry ma." Joe sits down. "I taught him how to swing a bat, you know. He's so good. At everything. He's gonna get a scholarship, I can see it now." He gushes to me. I smile. You know… I really hope Joe gets married someday. And not to me, either.

Don't get me wrong. I'd LOVE to marry Joe and have him be my husband. That seems like it'd be the perfect start of the rest of my life. But I don't want him to marry me. He deserves someone better than me, I think. He would be the best father in the world, and he deserves to have children with a woman that actually wants to be a mother. I don't want kids.

Even though he can't have kids, he can adopt.

But it can't be with me, because I really DO NOT what children.

Joe deserves children though.


	13. Okay? Okay

"Mommy, can I have a Popsicle? PLEASE?!" Frankie yanks on his mom's pant leg and begs. Mrs. Jonas's straight legged blue jeans don't even budge when he pulls on them. Frankie trips over her black heels, busy trying to keep up with her long strides. "They're only a dollar, mommy!"

"I don't have any cash on me, turtle. We'll get you an ice cream sundae when we get to the restaurant, okay?" Mrs. Jonas pats her pockets down only to find them empty. I slide my hand into my back pocket and feel around. I don't think I have cash on me either.

"Jojo, can I have a dollar for a Popsicle?! Please?!" Frankie turns his desperate begging to Joe. Just being with Joe for the amount of time I've been with him, I can tell that it'd be hard to get him to say no to Frankie. Joe's probably the biggest pushover.

"I don't have cash on me either, Frank. I only have my card, buddy." Joe ruffles his hair, and Frankie looks down at the ground with the saddest look of defeat on his face.

I reach in my front pocket and find a dollar there. Just one dollar, though. "Here, Frankie." I hand it to him. He takes it from my hand and looks at me like I'm the greatest thing that's ever happened to him. He smiles at me, missing all his front teeth to grow in his adult teeth and rests his head on my stomach while wrapping his arms around my legs.

"Thank you, Demi." He lets me go and runs over to the concession stand, cutting some people in the semi-long line. He's so cute.

"He really likes you, you know…" Joe walks closer to me and holds my hand. "You know, that's always been real important to me. I've had many girlfriends in the past that haven't been real good with him." Joe takes his hand from mine and puts it on my waist. "Can't say I blame him. You're amazing…"

I look down at the ground and keep walking with Joe's hand glued to my waist. "I like Frankie a lot, too… he's really cute." We approach the steps, and start walking up them to get to the car. I keep looking at the ground, not wanting Joe to see me blushing. His hand on my waist grips and tightens, probably leaving a bruise on my hip. Why is he grabbing me like this all of a sudden?

"Demi, don't… move." He pulls me over to him so that our hips and thighs rub together with every step. What's his problem? He presses his lips to my ear. "Jackass over here is staring at you… hard. Just stay close to me. I know him…"

I lift my head up slightly to see who he's talking about. Sure enough, a tall man with broad shoulders and wispy blonde hair with glasses on is looking at me like I'm a full course meal. He has to be about forty, if not fifty. His hair has brilliant grey strands woven into it, and his hair is long, down his back. His eyes look at me, menacingly. My eyes flicker down to the growing bulge in his pants. I shudder.

Joe looks at him with a hard, expressionless, I-dare-you-to-touch-her look on his face as we pass the man. He digs his fingers into my side. I have to bite my lip to keep from yelping in pain. We get to the top of the steps, and he finally lets me go. My hip is throbbing.

I don't say anything to Joe about hurting me because I don't want to make him feel guilty for protecting me, but when we make it to the car, I pull up my shirt and look. My hip is bright red with the imprint of his fingers in my skin. It's gonna bruise later. "Oh god, Demi… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" He squats down in front of me.

I put my shirt down and turn away from him. "No, it's not your fault. My um… my little sister did it. Last night while we were play fighting. It's not your fault." I lie to him. I really don't want to make him feel bad, because I'm truly grateful that he protected me like that. "My sister did it…"

"Demi, I wasn't born yesterday. Don't lie to me." He gets on his knees and stands on them in front of me. He lightly brushes his fingers over the sore spot, holding my shirt up with his free hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to grab you that hard. It's just… that guy. I know him. His name's George and he used to work with my dad. He's a known rapist, Demi. The cops won't do anything about him though, cause there's no proof, but he has been charged with rape once. He raped an eighteen year old last year, and she killed herself. He got a year in jail and four years' probation. …The girl he raped looked like you. She was pretty, with long brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes. I went to school with her brother…."

"Joe, it's okay. Get up…" I put my hand on the back of his head and rub his hair. "Really, it's okay. I forgive you. It really didn't hurt that bad."

He keeps brushing and rubbing his fingers over my hip. He pulls my shirt up higher and makes my bellybutton piercing exposed. The ring I have in it is a pink and blue dreamcatcher. Shit. I wish he didn't see that. He might think it's trashy or something, not all guys like piercings. I was fourteen when I got it and really fucking stupid.

"Demi, I don't think you realize…" He slides his fingers across my belly piercing and presses his lips to the sore mark on my hip. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just… find myself… very…_protective _of you." I look down at my stomach, hoping it looks good enough for him. I put lotion on before I left the house, so it's smooth and soft. I'm a little bloated, because I came on my period last night, but I'm far from fat, I think.

"And I thank you for that… but really, it's no big deal. It doesn't hurt…" I keep rubbing his hair. "Get up before your parents and Frankie come up here." I look around to see where they are. His mom, dad and Frankie are all walking up the steps into the parking lot now.

Joe gets up in one swift motion and roughly puts his lips on my forehead. "I'll never hurt you again…" He runs his hands along my lower back. "I'm sorry." He regresses back and looks at me in my eyes.

"I said it's okay." I look up at him too and stand on my tip toes to kiss him. We put our lips together and he parts his a little bit. I slip my tongue into his mouth and he accepts gratefully. I don't know why his kisses make me feel like I'm addicted to them in the worst way. I just want more and more and more after every single time.

When we pull away, he plants another kiss on my lips, tongueless this time. "I'm still sorry."

"And it's still okay."

* * *

I run up to my front door with the widest, most honest smile on my face. Today was another perfect day with Joe. His parents seem to really like me. They talked to me, they really like me. Joe and I still don't have a label, but I'm pretty certain that he's my boyfriend. Oddly enough, I'm okay with that. It just still confuses me every now and again.

I open up my front door and go right on in, shutting and locking it behind me. I can't wait to tell Dallas all about the baseball game, Joe being protective of me, and dinner. Dinner was really elaborate and equally delicious. I've never been to Fusion before, but there's a first for everything. I feel sort of lousy, because I know that it couldn't have been cheap. The chefs cooked our sushi, fried rice and stir fry right in front of our faces. And I didn't pay for a dime. I'm going to take Joe to a really fancy restaurant once I admit to my family that I think I have a serious boyfriend.

"Demetria, where have you been? You can't just go taking off like that without telling your mother and father where you're going to go. You're much too big to be running off by yourself at any time of the day, now." My Bubby immediately starts with me as soon as I come into the living room. It's 7:30 at night, WHAT are my Nana and Bubby still doing here?

I sit down on the arm of the couch and roll my eyes. No "Hi, Demi! How was your day?!" Of course not. I'm an abomination. "I went out with a friend." I mumble to him.

"Speak up when you're talking to your elders, Demetria. I know your mother taught you more respect than that."

"Yes sir."

"Now. What were you doing out? Two girls have called the house for you. I told them you were unavailable. Your grandmother and I have decided that we're going to take you to bible study tomorrow morning to find the lord. We both agree that you're a bit lost…"

I want SO bad to tell them that I've been out kissing boys. Maybe… just MAYBE that'll get them off my back. "I'm not going to bible study, Bubby. I don't want to."

"Demetria, given your condition, I don't think you're in a position to refuse the Lord's help."

"…I don't want to find the Lord." I mutter. "Fuck the bible."

"DEMETRIA!"

"What?!"

Bubby just shakes his head at me. I'm not going to sit here and take criticism when I really don't deserve it.

I get up off the couch to go find my mom. I really hope she's here in this house somewhere, because I really want to kill off my grandparents. They make me fucking sick.

"Just for your information…." I stop walking up the steps for a moment. "I have a boyfriend." Damn. I shouldn't have let that slip. I really shouldn't have let that slip, but whatever. I stomp up the steps and go straight to my room.

Why can't I just make my family happy? It sucks, because I just… I really want to make them happy. I'm happy. Why can't they be happy for me? This is all just getting to be too much for me. It's all too much… I just can't do this. Joe makes me happy. But my grandparents will never see past this sin…

I sit down on the edge of my bed and cover my eyes with my hands. I don't know why I feel like Joe is the only person that accepts me. My parents say they accept me, yet they still let my grandparents talk about me in that way. My grandparents will NEVER accept me. Dallas says she does too, but I can't count on her to always be there. I just can't count on anyone.

I bite my bottom lip and just start sobbing. I breathe in through my mouth, but my chest quivers as I try to catch my breath. I utter a soft groan and keep crying. My tears drip down on my shirt, making it wet. I really just need to get out of here. I need to leave until my grandparents are gone for good. I can't stay here…

I can't stay at Selena's, because that's all the way in Inglewood and I don't have my car. My car is in the shop getting the oil changed. My mom would never let me take her car anywhere if I don't intend to return, and it's even pointless to ask my dad. If I stayed at Marissa's, her mom would no doubt call my mom and tell her where I'm at. I need somewhere to go…

I grab my cell phone with trembling hands and call him. I just don't know what else to do. I have nowhere else to turn. He answers the phone with a gruff "Hello?", but I can't bring myself to say anything. I can't stop crying long enough.

"Demi? Demi, what's wrong? What's going on? Are you okay?" The pitch of his voice rises with worry.

I still say nothing.

"Demi, please. What's the matter? Are you okay?"

"….Joe." I take a deep breath and try to stop trembling.

"I'm here… I'm here. What's the matter?"

"I need to get out of here… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for putting you in this, but I don't know what else to do…" I shake my head. "I don't know what else to do…"

"Calm down…. Calm down." His voice goes from curious and worried to tranquil. "What do you mean you need to get out? What happened?"

"I just really need to get out of here. I can't do this anymore… I can't stay here."

"…Okay. Okay… just…. Just calm down. Do me a favor, okay?"

"Okay…"

"I need you to pack up some clothes, okay? Pack whatever you think you'll need… and I'm gonna come get you for the night, okay? Just for the night. We can talk about it… we'll talk about it."

"Okay."

"Okay. I'll see you soon. I'll see you real soon."

"Okay."


	14. Single

"Are you sure your parents won't… mind me sleeping over?" I twist my hair around my finger and sigh, staring out the window and focusing on a raindrop that trails down the window. I can't help but think that the rain is mimicking me and my tears that were just shed earlier. I honestly couldn't care less where I stay tonight, as long as it's not in my house with my grandparents. They're leaving tomorrow, but I still can't stand to be within the same proximity of them, so I'm not going back home until they're gone.

I rub my eyes and take a deep breath. I tried so hard to stop crying before I got into the car with Joe, but I still can't contain myself. I twist around the drawstrings on the hood of my sweatshirt and gnaw on the plastic aglet holding it together to prevent the onslaught of tears. I hadn't realized how upset I was about what my grandfather had said to me until I tried to stop tearing up.

"Nah, we're not staying at the house." He shakes his head. "I wouldn't bring a girl to my parents' house around Frankie unless I was planning to marry her." He taps on the steering wheel and glances over at me. "I just… wouldn't do that. Because… y'know… I respect my parents' house and Frankie's youth. I don't really want to explain to him about girls staying over houses until it's time. I like to set a good example for the kid."

"No, I totally understand. I wouldn't want Madison to see me dragging boys all through the house either. I understand." I sniff and wipe my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. "But uh…" I clear my throat softly. "Where are we going to stay? If we're not staying at your house… wouldn't it be a little expensive to rent a hotel just for one night?"

"Demi, I have a condo, remember? I'll just take you to my place. We'll just chill out and go to sleep." He turns down into a big complex and circles around a parking lot. I guess if I had paid attention to where he was driving, I would have noticed that he was going down on Costa Pacifica Way. He parks in the parking lot and shuts his car off. The building looks very high class. It's light brown with carved out patios and decks. It seems like a place where classy, yet middle-classed people would live. I step out of his truck and adjust my clothes.

"It's probably really nice having your own place and stuff…" I move my hair out of my face and start walking close behind him after he locks his car up. "It'd be nice to just… be alone in a place that's all yours, you know?" I follow him up a steel black and white spiral staircase. I hold onto the railing as we walk up. I notice that there's an elevator shaft, but I'm guessing that it's for handicapped people.

Joe fumbles around with his keys, looking down while he walks as if he could walk up these steps and make it to his condo with his eyes closed. "It is nice to have a place to call my own. But it gets lonely here, so that's why I don't stay here much." He finally stops walking at the very end of a lofty hallway-type thing. The light brown door has golden "1019" numbering on it. He puts the key in the lock, grabs a thick stack of papers from his mailbox and opens the door.

I walk in behind him and close the door behind me. I look around to take in the scenery. It smells exactly like his car, manly but with a hint of Clorox cleaner or something. It's completely furnished with very nice decorations. It doesn't look like a stereotypical bachelor's pad. I kick off my wet, soggy flip flops and my feet automatically sink into the soft, thick, plush white carpets. He flips a switch, and the lights come on. His living room has an enormous window with a view of the river out front. Hanging to cover the window are pale blue/green shams and curtains. His loveseat matches the shams, but the couch and the living chairs are a shade of brown. In front of the couches is a wooden entertainment stand with pictures of himself and Frankie in the picture slots. The TV is big, but not extravagantly big.

Right off the living room is the kitchen. The kitchen has all light brown wooden cabinets and foundations with lighter brown granite countertops, a silver stove and a silver refrigerator. The sink is nice and deep with a spiral faucet. I can honestly say that I'm pleasantly surprised at the upkeep. It seems like I'd be safe to eat off the floors.

"Just follow me for a second." He kicks his shoes off next to the chairs placed at his island. He throws his jacket over a living chair and starts walking down through a short hallway. I follow him, sure to keep up so that I don't get lost. He leads me through the hallway and into a very small room with a washer and a dryer stacked on top of one another and laundry detergent and dryer sheets on top of a shelf. At least I know he does laundry. "Did you bring your nightclothes?"

"Yeah… they're in my bag." I motion to the drawstring bag on my shoulders. "Why?"

"Because, I want you to get out of these wet clothes… before you catch a cold." He grabs the rim of my hoodie and pulls it up over my head. I hold onto the bottom of my cami underneath my hoodie so that it doesn't come up with my hoodie. "I'll wash them for you if you. Just leave your bra and underwear in the bathroom."

I yank my hoodie over my head, looping my hair through the head hole and hand it to him. "Okay. Thank you." I look up at him and notice this… unsettling look on his face. He looks like someone just told him something horrible and sent him into shock. "…Joe? You okay?"

"…Yeah. I'm cool." He gathers my hoodie up and throws it inside the washer but doesn't start it yet. "I'm fine."

"…What's wrong? What was that look for?"

"I just got surprised. That's all." He shrugs. "Come on. I'll show you to the bathroom so you can take a bath." He shrugs the situation off like it never happened. How come I have to tell him what's wrong with me whenever he asks, but he won't tell me whenever I ask?

"No." I stand in the laundry room, demanding him to come back. He turns back and looks at me with a smirk, but I remain firm. "Tell me what's wrong? How come it's okay for me to tell you what's wrong with me, but you won't tell me what's wrong with you? That's hardly fair…" I cross my arms to show him I mean business. He doesn't budge, so I tap my foot.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" He asks rhetorically. He chuckles to himself and runs his hand through his damp hair. "You're a lot… bustier than I thought, that's all."

I roll my eyes. That's it? "Really? Is that it?"

"Yeah. I'm just…." He laughs to himself again, clearly a nervous gesture. "I thought you were a bit flat chested. I'm not used to seeing you with big ones, that's all."

"I get that a lot." I look down. I don't really think my boobs are all that great. I guess they're kind of big, but they're not something to gawk at. I'd cut them off if I wouldn't get crucified for being a transvestite by my family. I used to duct tape them down when I started high school, but it started hurting once they got to a C-cup so I had to stop. "I wear a lot of sports bras…"

"I see that now." He shakes his head, smiling. "I knew you had a lot of ass…" He mumbles so low that I don't think I was supposed to hear that. "You have a very nice body, Demi. Take that as a compliment."

"Thank you." I nod. "Can I take a shower now?"

"Yeah, come on…"

* * *

"What do you have in your family?" Joe continues parting my hair and playing with it. He turned on The Hangover Part Three a half hour ago, but neither one of us have been watching it. He moves the tips of his fingers from my hair down to my face. He caresses my jawline with his fingertips, touching my facial hair. I really wish he wouldn't, though. I'm so hairy it's not funny. I don't have facial hair like a man does, though. I just happen to have a very thin lining of blonde hair that's all over my face. It's rather annoying, but you can't tell it's there unless you really stare at me. Aside from the hair that grows on my head, under my armpits, on my arms, between my legs and on my legs, all my body hair is blonde. The fine little hairs that are on my chest are blonde, and I have a patch of blonde baby hairs underneath my ear. Maybe I was meant to be blonde.

"What do you mean?" I shift my weight, carefully though, because I'm lying between Joe's legs and I don't want to hurt him in any way. I brace his laptop on my knees and sigh. "And will you stop playing with my hair? Not my hair, hair. But my… hair."

"You mean the gold hair on your ears and your face? It's cute." He grabs a little bit of my sideburns and pulls them. "You're my little hairball. Your gold hair is cute." He laughs. "But what are you? I've been trying to figure it out. I know you're white, but you don't have white people hair. That's what I mean."

"It's not gold, it's BLONDE." I nudge him playfully. "And I'm Italian; hence the hairy body. I have hair like my dad. He's Mexican, so I guess I have Mexican hair. My mom's full blooded Irish. She's a ginger and she's short like a leprechaun. My Nana and my Bubby are both Irish. Pure Irish. On my dad's side, his mom is pure Latina. Like my Abby doesn't even speak English. She talks to us in Spanish and we're just like 'huh?'" I laugh at that. Granted, I haven't seen my Abby in like two years, but when she does talk to me and Dallas, we don't understand her without having my real dad to translate.

"Your 'Abby'?" Joe questions, skeptical.

"Short for abuela. Neither me nor my sister could say it as kids, so we just call her Abby." I explain. "But anyway…. Yeah. My dad's mom is Latina, and his dad is Sicilian. He's in the mafia, actually. And I shit you not about that. He's in the mafia. He's like 87 or some shit and still cutting heads off."

Joe laughs at that. "Well, damn. That's a…. very interesting mix." He stops talking to catch his breath from his laugh.

"What about you?" I ask, still scrolling through his iTunes on his MacBook.

"Let's just say that I'm a little bit of everything. I'm Heinz 57. German, Italian, English… everything." He rubs his hands along my arms and kisses the top of my head. "So… you see anything you like on there? Or what?" He asks, referring to me scrolling through his music list for the last forty five minutes.

I smile. "Yeah, sure. You have an interesting little mix. You have any favorites?" I tilt my head back and look up at him.

"Not really. Depends on the day, I guess. I'm feeling Drake's new album right about now, but last week I was really into Matchbox Twenty." He puts his finger on the mousepad and scrolls over to Drake's album. Dallas has been wearing the entire album out for the whole week it's been out. I'm so tired of hearing it, quite honestly. "How about you?"

"…I'm more of a band girl. I really like A Rocket To The Moon and Nicki Minaj. I've been feeling One Direction lately, and a bit of Katy Perry. And Jay Z. Maybe some 2 Chainz if I'm feeling up to it." I shrug.

"Jay Z, 2 Chainz and One Direction? Well if those aren't all totally different directions." He chuckles. "What do you know about Jay Z, listening to One Direction?!" He teases me.

"Shut up! One Direction isn't that bad!" I laugh too. "But I do like a lot of different things… I like Fuckwitmeyouknowigotit by Jay Z and um… Tom Ford. So just shut up. And I have you know I used to take hip hop dance classes. Quit makin' fun of me." I stick my tongue out at him.

He laughs and puts his hands up. "Well excuse me!" He keeps rubbing my arms. I know it's something small, but I swear to the God I hesitate to believe in that I have never felt more loved and appreciated in my life. I like how we can goof around but he still makes me feel like it's more than just a friendship. I feel like I'm the most important thing in this room. And it's a really pleasant feeling. "...Demi?"

"Huh?" I pull up his safari browser and type "Facebook" into the address bar. His Facebook pops up, still logged in. He has 27 friend requests and 18 notifications. I used to look upon the psycho girlfriends that check their boyfriends' facebooks religiously with disgust, but I can honestly see where they come from now. Joe's not even my boyfriend, and I don't even know if the requests are from girls, but I still want to deny them all.

He leans down and kisses my cheek softly with dry lips. "You're not single… okay?" He whispers in my ear, sending a shiver up my spine.

I close my eyes and smile. "Neither are you." I whisper back, still smiling. I speak up, "And since you're not single anymore, I don't think you'd mind if I went through these for you… would you?"

"I don't care." He shrugs. "I don't got nothin' to hide. I'm a pretty boring dude. 'Specially when I'm home. I don't talk to none of my friends much no more."

I look up at him. "I believe you." I close out of Facebook and shut his MacBook. I put it on the floor and yawn, glancing at the clock on his cable box. It's going on 1:30 in the morning. Damn. It doesn't seem like we've been up just talking this long. "Are we sleeping on your couch?"

"I have a bedroom, babe. I would never make you sleep on a couch." He looks at the clock too. "Damn. Yeah, let's head to the room." He taps me on my shoulder, and I get up carefully. He yawns real big all of a sudden, and I stretch. My hair is all over the bottom of his shirt, where I was laying when I was between his legs. I must have shed when he was playing with it. "You tired?" He shuts off his TV and fixes up his couch.

"Mhm." I nod and stretch my legs out again. We had to have been lying on that couch for at least two hours straight. I pick my wedgie out and yawn too. "I have to use the bathroom first." I pull my ponytail off my wrist and tie my hair up in a tight one. I have to use two ponytail holders to get my hair to stay in a solid ponytail. I only have one with me, so my hair will probably fall out by the time I wake up.

"Alright. You want something to drink?" He combs his fingers through my silky hair and walks to the kitchen.

"Uh… yeah. Just get me whatever you're getting." I walk down the hallway to his bathroom. I grab my little drawstring bag off the back of the door where I left it. I sit it down by the toilet and pull my pants down. I hate being on my period. I'd be mortified if I bled all over Joe's bed tonight. I know I won't, because my antidepressants suppress my period to where it's very, very light and only lasts two days. I'm on my second day already, and I'm hardly even bleeding.

I wipe myself when I'm done peeing and put a fresh panty-liner on the base of my underwear. I clean up after myself and wash my hands. I walk back down the hallway and to Joe's bedroom. I yawn again and climb into the bed next to him. Before I lie down, I take a long sip of the drink he got me and take my glasses off. "You have food here, right?" I ask Joe after he turns off the bedside lamp.

"Yeah… why? Are you hungry?" He sits up and looks down at me in the dark. "You want me to go fix you something?"

"No. I'm not hungry." I put my hand on his chest and push him back into laying down. "I wanna cook you breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Demi, you don't have to do that."

"I want to. You're letting me sleep here. The least I can do is feed you."

"Demi. That's not a big deal. I'd do anything to make you comfortable. You don't have to repay me."

"I'm cooking you breakfast tomorrow morning. So just shut the hell up."

"…Yes ma'am." He finally agrees. "Can I have a goodnight kiss?"

"Of course." I lean up a little bit and put my lips on his. He doesn't try to put his tongue in my mouth, so I just pull away. I lie back down and settle in to go to sleep. He scoots closer to me and puts his arm around my waist. I'm a little new to this whole girlfriend thing. But I really like it.


	15. Hannah

"Is there any specific time you want to be home?" He locks his arms tightly around my waist, groaning in slight exhaustion. I sniff and lift up off his chest a little. I shake my head a little and mumble a subtle "huh uh." I'm glad that he said something, because I was totally drifting off to sleep, and as if my heavy eyes aren't enough proof, the drool and slobber that started to slip out the corners of my mouth collected on his shirt. "Were you asleep? Sorry I woke you." The way his voice sounds, it wouldn't be hard to figure that he was on his way to sleep too.

"I'm not… I mean, I wasn't…" I sigh. Funny how all we've done is watch TV, talk and cuddle; yet, it's still the best time I've had in my life. I quickly flick my eyes over to the clock. It's only 12:00 noon. I'm in no rush to get home, and I'm CERTAINLY not in a rush to leave Joe. "You didn't wake me." I yawn real big. "I don't want to go home."

He chortles and knots his fingers through my hair. "We can stay here again tonight, if you want." He leans down to kiss my forehead. "On two conditions, though."

"What conditions?" I look up at him, eyelevel with his chin. "Of course I want to stay here again."

"YOU… have to go home for a little bit. I'm sure your folks are wondering where you've been." He slides his hands down to my waist and caresses my hips. "And then, you have to go shopping with me. I can't keep letting you stay here without any food in my house. We'll go to Walmart and stock up. Anything special you want for dinner tonight? We can order whatever you want."

"Can I cook dinner? Please? We slept through breakfast, so can I make dinner?" I already have so many possibilities running through my head. I know about a dozen of my mom's recipes. I can make him an appetizer, a main course and dessert. I want to cook for him so badly.

"…Okay, if you're sure. If you want to cook dinner, you can cook dinner. I'll buy it for you to make."

"Okay, what do you want? Do you want a pasta, steak, chicken, pork or fish?" I sit up and grab my phone. I enter my notepad and start to type what he wants so that I can go home and look through my mom's recipe book.

"Um… I could go for some chicken, if you don't mind."

I type chicken into my notepad. "And for an appetizer, do you want soup and salad? Or breadsticks and potatoes?"

"Soup and salad, please. I like any kind of dressing aside from Thousand Island."

I type that into my notes. "Okay, and for dessert, do you want a cake, cookies, something cold or a pie?"

He smirks. "Can't I just have you for dessert?" He leans in and kisses me on my lips, unexpectedly. I smile through the kiss before closing my eyes and taking him with ease. Our tongues meet and intertwine. His tongue is so soft. Surprisingly, he's the first one to pull away this time. "I'd be satisfied if I had you for dessert…."

I peck his lips with a tongueless kiss. "Depends on what you're talking about…" I'm not entirely too sure if he meant that in a nasty way, but I'm going to take it like that. I've never done anything sexual with a guy before, so the mentality I have with him is the same I've had with my previous girlfriends. "I don't know if you could actually _have_ me…" I'll be so embarrassed if in fact, he wasn't referring to going down on me, but I have to take the chance.

"You don't know WHAT I can do." He kisses me again, trailing his lips from mine down to my collarbone. His tongue traces a motion across my breastbone. "I've been told that my tongue can do some pretty amazing things." He brings his lips back up to my neck and finds my sweet-spot, right below my ear. I close my eyes and take my bottom lip between my teeth.

"I'd sure like to find out…" I mutter, in murmured pleasure. I slide down and lie back on the couch, my head resting on one of his throw pillows. I don't know if I'd much like it if I lost my technical virginity on a couch. Then again, I won't lose my virginity at all. At least not today, because my Aunt Flo decided that this week would be a nice week to pay me a visit.

"You will…" He kisses my lips. "You will." He kisses me again. "Eventually…" He props himself up on his elbows, beside my head. He's hovering over me, staring down at my body, obviously eyeing my "D" necklace that got swallowed up between my boobs. "I wouldn't go past first base with you, babe. No matter how… tempting your body might be." He kisses the top of my head gingerly. "I respect you too much for that…"

I laugh softly. "So were there any… girls that you didn't respect?" I reach up and put my hand on his cheek. His face is so perfect, I have to remind myself that he's real.

"Yeah, a couple." He turns his face slightly and kisses my hand. "I got a lot of pussy in the backseat of my old car. But that was back in my high school days…."

"So you fuck girls that you don't respect in cars? Where do you fuck girls you do respect?" I put my hands on his lower back and keep staring up into his eyes.

"Well, yeah. All the girls I screwed in my car were hoes… quickies on prom night and homecoming." He pushes a piece of my hair away from my face. "You… on the other hand…" He smiles. His teeth are so perfect, and straight. "I'd make love to you. Maybe in the bathtub… with candles. In a bed for hours. Even in the kitchen… on top of the dishwasher." He chuckles. "But I wouldn't fuck you." He shakes his head. "Nope. I wouldn't do that." He kisses me. "I'd make love to you. The kind of love that… is special."

I smile up at him. "…It's nice to know that somebody still respects me."

He smiles back at me. "…Are you a virgin, Demi?"

I shake my head. "…Not technically. I mean…" I feel my cheeks blush. "I've never really done anything with a boy before…. But I've done things with girls…"

"You've never been… penetrated?"

"I have."

"You said…."

"There are other ways, Joe. Strap-Ons… Dildos… Vibrators."

"So I'd be your first…"

"Technically." I clear my throat and take the heat off myself. "So when you say you can't have kids…. Do you mean that like… you don't… cum? Like you just don't cum?"

"No, I cum. I cum just like every other guy. I just don't produce good ones, you know? Like my boys can't fertilize an egg. Apparently they die before they even make it to the egg. I forget what it's called, but all I know is that it's impossible for me to get a woman pregnant."

"So does it really not bother you? Or is that just an act?" I lean back against the couch, facing him. My long, thick hair dangles down my back and rests in lengths of layers around my chest. I smooth it over to the side and comb through it with my fingers. Joe watches me.

"I mean yeah… of course it bothers me. I always wanted to be a dad. But when I went into the service, it stopped bothering me. I don't really want to have kids when it's a tossup situation, whether I'll come home alive or not. So it doesn't really bother me."

"What if you ever did have a baby with your wife?"

"That can't happen, Demi."

"Well let's say for argument's sake that it did. Like… what if by some miracle and all the luck in the world, it did happen. You got your wife pregnant, and she had your baby. Would you leave the service? For good? Or would you still serve?"

"I'd retire. Definitely. My wife and my child wouldn't want for anything in this world. I'd retire, get us a good house and get my kid into a good school. If I had a baby, Demi…" He sighs, as if this is something he's thought about plenty of times before. I'm starting to feel bad that he can't have his own kids. "My baby would mean the world to me, you know? I'd protect him or her with my life. If it ever did happen… I'd feel the need to be super protective. Because it's not really meant to be…" He sighs again. "Wishful thinking, though."

"I'm sorry." I hold his hand and kiss his fingers.

"Don't be." He kisses me on the lips. "I can't have kids, and you don't want kids. That's just another reason why we're perfect for each other."

* * *

"Demi, Marissa came by. She said you haven't been answering her text messages. She sounded really worried." My mom talks to me through my cracked bathroom door. She doesn't like Maddie to know that she smokes, so when she wants a quick puff she stands by my bedroom window and blows the smoke out of it. She used to smoke in Dallas's room, but since the baby came she hasn't been doing that. My mom puffs like a chimney, but she promised Maddie that she'd quit after she got out of the hospital last year. She did quit for a little while, but she started back up again. I'm not as disappointed as I used to be, because I see that she really has been cutting back on her cigarettes. Being fifty three years old and diagnosed with emphysema really changed the way she looked at things.

"Oh, did she?" I close my eyes and lean back against the headrest on the ring of my bathtub. "What'd you tell her?" I guess I haven't been answering my phone lately. I've just been so tied up with Joe, I honestly forgot that the rest of the world even existed. I part my soapy legs in the water to shave them. I'm going back over Joe's in a little while and I don't want to have hairy, furry legs.

"I told her that you weren't home, I didn't know where you were and I didn't know when you'd be back. Did you want me to lie to her?" She comes into my bathroom and throws her cigarette in my toilet. I shake my head. "So where DID you go, baby? I know you're eighteen and all that, but you can't just leave my house without letting me and daddy know where you're headed to. I still have rules when you're home…"

"I know, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Actually, I won't be home again tonight, if that's okay with you…" I lean up and grab my towel off my towel rack. I don't really mind my mom seeing me naked, but to a certain extent. I stand up in my tub and wrap the towel around my body.

"I don't mind. Just call me before you go to sleep. And leave your phone on." She grabs my wide-toothed wet hair brush and starts dragging it through my freshly washed, luscious hair. "You need a haircut, Demetria. Your hair is going to touch your ass if you don't. Jesus, you got hair like your daddy." She parts it to the side and slides down to my blonde spot below my ear. She uses her long fingernail and scratches my scalp. I always get this one little spot of dandruff in my blonde patch. My mom says it's not dandruff, it's dry scalp, but it looks like dandruff to me. It's just one little patch, and as soon as she scratches it, it goes away.

"Ow! Stop it, you're scratching too hard!" I swat her hands away.

"Oh, Demi! Stop it! You're so tender-headed." She starts brushing again. "You got all this thick, pretty hair and you can't stand when someone tries to do something with it. You keep it a mess." She brushes it all back the same way and starts twisting my two ponytails into it. "So where are you going?"'

"I'm staying over my friend's house. Ow…." She yanks my hair back to make my ponytail tight. "MOM!"

"I am NOT hurting you, Demi Devonne." She pulls my hair through the ponytail holder. "Who's your friend? Can you bring her home so I can at least meet her? You've been going a lot of places with her, the least you can do is let me meet her…"

"It's a him." I mumble, picking up my toothbrush and securing my towel underneath my armpit. I guess I can tell her about Joe now. We sort of… made it official. And if I don't tell her, someone else is sure to tell her. "His name is Joe. He's twenty one, and he's in the National Guard. And he's my boyfriend." I start brushing my teeth.

"…That's great, honey. Really, it is." She smooths my eyebrows down with her thumb. "You're a very pretty little girl, Demi. And you know that I'd be just as excited for you if it were a lady friend."

I lean down and spit out my toothpaste. "Yeah. So… that's the deal. That's where I'm staying. He has his own place down on Costa Pacifica, and that's where I've been." I rinse my mouth out and walk to my bedroom to finally get dressed. My mom follows me.

"Baby girl…. Protect yourself, okay? I never thought I'd have to talk about this with you, but I'll just keep it honest with you." She sits on my bed, crossing her legs and looking at me. I grab a pair of underwear to put on. "I know you're a grown woman now… you're an adult. And asking you to wait until marriage is totally pointless. So I'm just gonna ask you to protect yourself. Use condoms… birth control… I'll take you down to the clinic to get you some, just ask…"

"Mom, Joe and I aren't having sex." I strap my bra around my body and pull it up to my boobs. "I'm not even sure if we're serious enough to have sex, and I don't even know if we ever will. And even if we do…." I pull on a pair of light blue pants with black "LOVE PINK" letters down the leg. "Something's wrong with him, and he can't have kids. He was born with this thing… that prevents him from getting a girl pregnant."

"…Alright, honey. I'm just making sure you take care of yourself." She stands up and kisses my cheek. "You know me and you have always been tight. Ever since you were my little "Hannah", we've been tight. We go way back, kid. You used to share your crackers with me while we watched The Little Mermaid." She looks at me with sincerity. "I love you, Demi. You know that. You know I would die if anything ever happened to you."

I think she feels the need to tell me this after all the shit my grandparents just put me through. Regardless, it's nice to hear my mom say she loves me. She's always calling me "her little Hannah." I guess I was named "Hannah" for two weeks after my birth before she and my dad agreed to change me "Demetria." They had to get my birth certificate changed and everything. I'm kind of glad they did, because I don't think I look much like a Hannah. I think I look like a Demi.

"Love you too, mommy."


	16. Think About It

"…Tomorrow, I want you to take a break from me, okay?" Joe whispers to me as he holds me on my chest, stroking my hair. I inhale the scent of him and brush my fingers along the thick, black hairs on his arms. "I know you told me not to worry about it, but I am worried. You need to spend some time with your friends too." He kisses my eyelid. "I mean it, baby."

I just nod. I shouldn't have told him about how Marissa's been bugging to see me. He doesn't want me to ditch my friends for him, but I get the feeling that I wouldn't hang out with Marissa even if I wasn't so busy being with Joe all the time anymore. I don't know why, but I still don't feel like being bothered with Marissa. "Joe?" I mumble, eagerly switching the subject. "What did you do in high school? Like sports wise… and stuff."

He puts his hands on my lower back. "I did lots of things, babe." His oddly sweet-smelling breath blows down on me, with the scent of the chocolate cake I made for dessert still lingering. "I played baseball, basketball, a little bit of football and some soccer. Could've gotten a scholarship to play baseball in college if I didn't go to the service. I wrestled my junior year, but gave it up senior year. I was in the art club too. I was kind of a jock." He chuckles. "How about you?"

"I'm so uncoordinated, but…" I admit, full of embarrassment. "I was a cheerleader…my junior and senior year, I cheered. And I was the starting third baseman for the softball team. I was on the dance team too. And chorus…." I look up at him. "I was a little bit popular in school. Just a little."

"I could see why you'd be popular." He smiles at me and presses his lips to mine. "You're fucking gorgeous." He grabs a strand of my hair and strokes it. "But chorus? And dance team? So you can sing and dance?" He smirks. "I'd love to see that. Were you any good?"

"Co-captain of the dance team… and I got a lot of solos in chorus." I sigh just thinking about high school. I get why he'd think that high school was a breeze for me, but it was the exact opposite. I swear to god I'm not conceited, but I know that I'm not ugly. I don't think I'm the prettiest thing to walk this earth, but I'm not dissatisfied with the way I look. I could make some adjustments, but I have no choice, so I deal with it. And being the pretty girl wasn't always easy. Granted, I had a wide variety of friends, but I wasn't all that popular. I was just kind of… ho-hum, go with the flow.

"How come you never told me that you were a singer, though?" He sits up and looks at me as if he missed something crucial. I shrug my shoulders at him. I'm not a very good singer, please believe that I'm not. I'm not dreadful, but I'm really not that special. And with that being said, that's not usually the first thing I tell people. Especially my potential love interests.

"I'm not that good. I never took lessons or anything, so I'm not amazing or anything. Don't be too disappointed. I'm not that great. I used to think I was friggin' Beyonce when I was little, but I got my hopes crushed real quick."

"How little?"

"When I was twelve… up until I was fifteen. I was convinced I was gonna be a popstar. I wanted to be Carrie Underwood so badly. I went to a bunch of her concerts and shit." I shake my head at secondhand embarrassment at my younger self. "Made myself a little Youtube channel and everything."

"Then what happened?"

"I went to high school and got some sense knocked into me. I got shoved into a locker or two, but that's beside the point. The point is, I realized that I actually sucked."

"Your Youtube channel still up?"

"….No." Another thing that one should learn about me is that I'm an awful liar. Actually, I'm a very good liar. I'm borderline pathological, I think. But I suck at lying about stupid shit to someone's face. If I get caught sneaking out the house, I can whip up a good little lie right off the top of my head to cover my ass, but when it comes to lying to someone's face about pointless shit, I suck.

"You lie like a rug." Joe teases, reaching down and starting his laptop up. Oh god, I will DIE if he sees my old Youtube videos. I've wanted to take the account down for SO long, but I forgot the password to it so I'm stuck with it. He opens up his safari browser and goes to Youtube. I have no problem with him searching it. He'll never find my old account, though. He'll never in a million years guess the name to it.

"Good luck finding it." I shrug and lean back, relaxing on the couch. He'll never find it. But, I keep a keen eye on him, just in case, by some miracle he does find it. I keep my hands and legs ready to pounce and grab the laptop from him if necessary.

"…Let's try…." He goes up to the search bar and types: "demi singing." I let a laugh slide through my lips. As if that's going to get him anywhere. There are millions of "Demi's" in the world that can sing. Aren't there? The videos pop up, and NONE of the first results are of me. I don't know why, but I feel relieved. "Nope…" He doesn't even seem frustrated. He just goes back up to the search bar and adds: "demi singing Oceanside California."

Shit.

The results pop up. Still, none are me. All videos of beaches and oceans. I feel relief wash over me again. He's persistent, though. He goes back up to the search bar and types in my last name. He clicks the little magnifying glass and waits for the results. I wait too. I bite my bottom lip. "Joe, don't!" I lean across his lap, trying to grab ahold of the laptop.

He smiles in satisfaction. He found it. He clicks the first video result and yanks away from me. "Demi, I just wanna see you singing!"

"NO!" I try grabbing it again. He uses his hand to hold me back and puts the laptop on top of the arm of his couch, out of my reach. Shit. Shit. Shit. "It's horrible don't!"

He presses play, and the video takes a second to buffer.

"JOE DON'T DO THIS!"

The video pops up, and he stares at the screen, eyes full of excitement and mouth tugging up into a smile. I give up trying to fight him. I clamp my hands over my eyes and contemplate if death would be more pleasant than letting my boyfriend watch my old Youtube videos. I don't know what's more mortifying; the enormous gap between my teeth, the fact that I'm playing a cheap Barbie keyboard in the video, the fact that I wrote the song I'm singing in it when I was twelve, or the fact that my username is "littledemistar101." Yep. Death would definitely be much more pleasant than this torture.

"Hey you guys, it's Demi again and as you can see I haven't gotten a new guitar since my last video. My parents agreed to get me a new one if I cleaned the carpets for three weeks, so now I'm back to playing on the piano until they actually get me one. I have a new song for you guys today, it's one that I wrote at recess. It's not finished, because this boy spilled his milk on my notebook watching the dodgeball game. He got a demerit, so it's all good." My childlike voice echoes through the room as Joe plays the video on full volume. I feel like just dying. "Anyway… comment, like and subscribe, please. My Myspace is in the description box and… yeah. Just… enjoy."

Joe is dead silent. I'm just plain dead.

"And I'll walk away, and the hurt will fade, I won't dream of the night we met." I sound like shit. Oh my god, what made me think this was okay to post? My eyes roll to the back of my head when I hear my old self make an annoying grunt noise, thinking that grunting to get the note out made me sound better. "I won't need your touch…. I won't miss your love. AND YOUR KISS IS SOMETHING I WILL FORGET." I swear the glass just broke with how shitty that high note was. "I'll be over you somedaaaaaay…. But not yet. Not yet…. Ohhh yeahh…." I swear to god that physically pained me to sit through that.

"Babe… that…" Joe speaks as soon as the video ends. "That was sooooo cute. On my life, that was the cutest thing I've ever seen. And you weren't bad. You did so good…" Joe laughs playfully and kisses my cheek. I still want to die. "That was so cute… that was so cute. I need more. Let's watch more."

"NO! I didn't even want you to watch that… don't!" I grab his hand. "I mean it. Don't. At least not while I'm around. Do it when I'm not around to see."

"Alright, baby. I'm sorry." He kisses me on my cheek and rubs my back. "I'm sorry. Don't be too mad at me. I thought it was really cute. And you're not a bad singer." He rubs me on my back and strokes my hair. "I'm sorry, and I love you."

"I love you too." I really never wanted to tell Joe that unless I meant it. But, I really think that I actually DO mean it. I don't think it means what it could mean just yet. I think I love Joe in the sense that I really don't want anything to happen to him. I'd be heartbroken if something happened to him. I don't think I quite love him in the romantic way just yet. "I need to go take a shower."

"Alright. I'll start the water for you, come on." We both get off the couch and head back toward his bathroom. "What time do you want to go home tomorrow?"

"I gotta be home before noon. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon, and I have to take my sister to her soccer game before I go. So probably around eleven… eleven thirty." I shrug. "I can't be late though. My mom will kill my ass if I'm late. Cause I haven't been to the doctor's in a really long time." I go into the bathroom and take off my long sleeved shirt.

Joe bends down and starts the shower for me, because apparently you have to pull really hard to get the water to run. "What do you have to go to the doctor's for? Are you sick or is it just a checkup?" He stands up straight and looks at me intently. I'll never get naked in front of Joe just yet, but I guess it would be a big surprise for him, because I'm standing in front of him in just my bra and underwear.

"No, I'm not sick. I'm just way overdue on going." I trace his eyes and find that he's staring at my chest. I let it go. "I have to go see my gynecologist…."

His face turns to an expression of disgruntlement. "…Is it a man or a woman?"

"A man. Same guy I've been seeing since I was old enough to go."

"…Alright." He walks over to me and puts his arms around my waist. "Are you comfortable around him?" He puts his forehead against mine and kisses the tip of my nose. Chills rise up my spine as he strokes and caresses my back dimples. I love how he can touch me so sensually. He has a way of making me feel like I am nothing but loved.

"Yeah. He doesn't make me feel uncomfortable. I mean, generally…. Having some weird guy stick his fingers up inside my crotch and feel around on my boobs isn't exactly the most relaxing experience. But my doctor does a good job of not making it too awkward." I press my lips to his chest since it's all I can reach.

"Maybe I should go to college to be a lady doctor." He chuckles. "That way, I won't have to worry about you being uncomfortable." He kisses me on the lips. I love kissing him.

* * *

"When do you have to go back to… your army thing?" I lie down on his chest before we go to bed. "And how long do you have to be gone for?"

"I don't know, babe…." He mutters. I can tell that this subject sort of bothers him. I know if I just ask him why he gets so bothered by this, he probably won't answer.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

"Nothing, Demi." He mumbles again. "It's late. I just want to go to sleep." Suddenly, his whole demeanor has changed. I know something's bothering him. I really wish he'd tell me. I KNOW something's on his mind. "Goodnight."

"…Joe." I sit up in the bed. Even though it's pitch black in the room, I can see him. "Something's bothering you. And I don't know what it is, but you know you can tell me. You can tell me, babe. What's bothering you?" I ask him again.

"It's nothing, baby. Really, it's nothing. Just…lie down. Let's go to bed." His voice is different too.

"JOE."

"Leave it alone, Demi."

"NO. Something is wrong… and I wanna know what it is. Did I say something?" I put my hand on his back and rub like he always does to me. "If I said something, baby you need to tell me. I won't say it again." I lean down and kiss his cheek.

"I just don't want to think about leaving you. I can't stand the thought of leaving you here while I'm off… fighting and putting my life in danger. I'll never be able to deal with not seeing you. I don't want to think about leaving you. I can't think about it."

"…You can't stay gone forever. While you're gone… I'll be waiting for you. It's okay." I understand now. And the more I think of it, the more I realize that I don't really want him to leave me either. What if he doesn't make it back?

"I just don't want to think about it." He sniffs. I reach over to touch his face. Sure enough, his cheeks are wet. He's crying. "I never thought that I'd meet someone that made me want to retire. I love being in the service, you know? I never thought someone would make me just… not want to re-enlist. I wish I never did. But I did, and now I have to go back. And I just don't want to leave you."

"…Don't cry." I kiss his lips and hold him, comforting him and letting him lie on my chest. "It's all going to be alright.. I'll be waiting for you when you get back. I won't let anyone take your place. I love you, baby. And everything will be okay… don't cry."

He sighs. "I'm gonna miss you babygirl." He sniffs again. "…But I don't want to think about it."

I don't really want to think about it either, to be honest.

So we just won't think about it yet.


	17. Meet

"Babe, why won't you… let me come in? Is there something wrong?" Joe asks me. He puts the car in park as he settles in my driveway. I was afraid he'd ask this. I was really afraid that he'd ask to come in. "It's just that… you kind of… get all… weird when it's about your family… is everything alright?" His eyes look at me with deep, deep concern. I look away, not able to bear it.

"Yeah, everything's cool." I lick my lips and sigh. I'm really not worried about him actually coming into my house or anything. It's just… my family can be a bit… you know. I'm serious about him, really I am. I guess here goes nothing. "Do you… wanna… come in?"

"Yeah, I mean…. I'd like to meet your family. If you don't want me too babe, just say so. It's no big deal." He caresses my arms comfortingly and kisses my temple. "It's no big deal. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. It's okay. I just… would like to put faces to names, you know?" He kisses my temple again. I close my eyes and nod.

"Okay. Um…. just…. Just come on." I pull the door handle and let myself out of his car. He energetically gets out of the car too, and follows me up the cobblestone steps that lead to my front door. I check the usual hiding place for the key. It's not there. Fuck. "…We gotta go 'round back…" I mutter, irritably. I hate when Dallas takes the fucking key and doesn't put it back. It's ALWAYS her. She's ALWAYS the one to blame.

"Why don't you just ring the bell?" He asks. I roll my eyes subtly. If it was so easy as for me to just ring the doorbell, don't you think I would?

"It doesn't work. Bad storm last summer blew it out. Never got it fixed." I sling my legs over the railing and hop down off the porch like I always do, because I'm just too lazy to take the steps back down. Joe raises his eyebrow at me, shrugs it off and follows me. I walk over to the door of the garage, flip open the keypad, punch the code in and watch as the door slowly opens up. "Sorry about the mess." I mutter, pushing my way through the clutter of rollerblades, Skip-Its, board games and rusty bikes that we could throw out.

My parents always leave the garage door open, so I just twist the handle and walk right on through it. "Take your shoes off. My mom will kill you. No shoes on the carpet, that's the absolute rule." I kick my flimsy little flip flops off on the indoor-outdoor carpet of our mudroom and walk up the tiny flight of steps. "Mom…. Dad…." I yell, halfheartedly. I realize they probably couldn't hear me, so I yell again. "MAAAAAAAAAAA! DAAAAD! I'm HOME!"

"…Is this you?" Joe stops midway up the staircase, pointing at a picture hanging up in the walkway. He's pointing to a tiny, doll-faced little toddler with her hands clasped together and her messy light brown hair tied up in a little bow.

"No that's Dallas. Cute baby, wasn't she?" I backpedal so that I'm equal with him on the steps. "Dallas is my older sister… the one that's twenty two. And that…" I point to a chubby-cheeked, tan little girl with long dark brown hair and her lip poked out. "That's Madison. My little sister. She was mad that my mom put her in that shirt for her pictures." I chuckle.

"…And where are you?" He looks around, eyes fixating on the blank spot on the wall where the middle child is supposed to be. This is the first of many things I'll probably have to explain to Joe while he's here. I rub my temple and think of a nice way that won't make me pissy while thinking about it, to explain.

"My uh…. My grandparents… they… they hate homosexuals. And last year when they visited for thanksgiving, I got into an argument with them. And my grandma told my mom that she won 't live with a… "fucking queer" as a granddaughter. So… my mom kind of… doesn't keep pictures of me up, except for in the sitting room. She takes most of my pictures down when they visit. It's… really not a big deal." I nibble on my bottom lip and look down. It used to bother me more than it bothers me now.

"…That's awful, babe…" He puts his arms on my hips and caresses them. "You're beautiful…" He kisses my lips softly, tongueless but still sensual. I smile softly and rest my head on his chest. It's nice to have someone think that I'm truly beautiful for what I am. It's nice to have someone REALLY think so.

"…Come on. Let me give you the royal tour." I let him go and continue walking up the picture-filled-but-none-of-me stairway. It smells like peppermint candy, so my mom must've gotten an order in today. I'm surprised she didn't text me to ask for help. "Mom…" I lead Joe through the hallway, past the living room. I don't think anyone else is home, which is generally a good thing. My mom will be easier than anyone else. We wander into the kitchen.

"I've got a mess in here, baby. I have sugar crystals on the floor, watch where you step." My mom talks back at me, her rear end sticking out the door of a cabinet she's knee-deep in. "Thompsons called in a last minute order of three thousand buttermints needed for tomorrow night…" She mumbles.

I clear my throat in the attention-demanding way. "I'll help you a little later… but uh…" I look up at Joe standing beside me. The look on his face says it all. He finds the sight merely funny, but it's the norm for me. "I have company… and your underwear is pink."

"You what?" She slowly backs out the cabinet careful not to bump her head. She whips her head around and her face blushes bright pink like mine does when I'm embarrassed. "Well Jesus Christ, Demetria. Warn me or somethin'." She stands up and fixes her strawberry blonde hair, which falls all catawampus around her shoulders. "Nice to meet you, honey. I'm Dianna… Demi's mama." She extends her hand.

Joe grabs hers firmly and shakes it with a warm smile. "Joe Jonas, ma'am." He introduces himself. I have to fight the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes. "I'm a huge fan of your pumpkin rolls… and your daughter." Okay, I finally roll my eyes. Why can't they just say "hello?"

"Ah, the pumpkin rolls." My mom smiles a half smile. "Demi's told me a lot about you, it's nice to finally meet the man of the hour." Mom glances over at me. Our eyes don't meet. "Well, excuse the mess I've got goin' on around here." She switches her attention to me. "Did you eat dinner, Demi ?"

"I'm not hungry. I ate over Joe's."

"Okay. Dinner's in the microwave. I made pot pie. Heat it up if you get hungry." She goes back to coating the tray of pastel-colored mints with melted liquid sugar. "Joe, you're welcome to eat some dinner too. There's more than enough for you, honey." She begins to talk a little louder. "You said you're a Jonas? You related to Vicki and Collette Jonas?"

"Uh… yes ma'am. They're my Aunt Vicki and Aunt Collette." Joe sticks his hands in his pockets and sways comfortably back and forth. I put my hand on his waist, to comfort myself. "You now them from school or something? They graduated from Carlsbad."

"Yes, sir. They were my high school best friends. How are they doing? I know they went to college down in Arizona. They alright?"

"Yeah. My Aunt Vicki is a paralegal now. And Aunt Collette is still going for her master's in pediatrics. I'll have to let them know that I've talked to you."

"That sounds wonderful, honey."

"Um, mom… I'm gonna take Joe down to the basement… so we can watch TV. When everyone else gets home, just… call us back up here or something. So he can meet everyone." I diffuse the conversation and tap Joe on the shoulder, signaling him to follow me.

"Nice talking to you, Miss Dianna." He says politely and turns around. I grab his hand softly and lead him down the steps and into the basement. "You have a TV down here? Just for fun, or is this someone's room?" He asks.

"It's basically… my dad's man cave." I flick the light on and point to the wall. "Hence the football jerseys and the flat screen. I probably spend the most time down here, though." I plop down on the couch and turn the TV on. He smooths his jeans down and sits next to me.

"You have a nice house…" He nods his head and rests his head back on a couch cushion. "Not that I was expecting you to have a bad house or anything, babe." He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. I pull my feet up and onto the couch and start filing through the channels in hopes of finding something to watch on TV.

"Yeah, my mom especially takes pride in the house." I turn on MTV. "Watch Girl Code with me." I lie on his chest and hold him tight. "You ever watch it?"

"No… I've never watched Girl Code." He chuckles. "But anything for you, babe." He puts his hand on my waist and lets me lie on him. He turns his attention to the TV and watches with me. The topic of conversation on Girl Code is ex-boyfriends. Glad it's not something as awkward as ex-girlfriends. That would be bad for the both of us.

"…Let's play the question game again." I roll over on my stomach and put my head in his lap. I trace circles on the knee of his jeans. I catch myself trailing my eyes up the length of his leg, trying to locate where _he _might be. I can't make out any bulges or indents in his jeans that might give me an indication. "Soft and Sensual… or Rough and Satisfying?"

He chuckles and looks down at me. "With you, or in general?" He slides his hands down my back and rubs my lower back dimples. "With you… it'd probably be a little bit of both…maybe more rough…" He chuckles again. "Your turn." He cracks his knuckles. "All your clothes off, or all your clothes on?"

I'm not sure when we started to go towards dirty, but I like it. I laugh softly, mostly from nerves. "Clothes off, definitely." I put my head on his knee and continue to watch the TV. "Do you think I'm pretty, Joe? Like… if you saw me on the street, what would you think?"

"Honestly… I would probably stop you and ask for your number. Demi, I think you are…. the most… mysterious… interesting… beautiful… drop dead SEXY woman I've ever came across. Maybe I'm a little bit biased… but I really think so."

"…Thank you." I raise myself up on my elbows and kiss him gently. "Love you."

"Love you too." He keeps his hands on my lower back and we sit in silence, watching the girls on Girl Code talk about pimples and zits.

* * *

"So, Joe seems really sweet, baby… where'd you say you met him again?" My mom parts my wet hair into sections and combs through it. I'm about to fall asleep. I love when my mom plays with my hair. I know my mom doesn't seem like it, but she really loves me. She's just never quite sure how to deal with me.

"Panera. The day Carlo was born. When I went there with Marissa." I close my eyes and let her keep playing with my hair. My mom always used to do this to my hair. She hates it when I have knots in my hair, so when I was younger, she always used to comb them out for me. It's been a while since she's done it, but it's always been our special thing.

"Sounds cute. I'm glad you finally let me have a look at him." She grabs my arm and holds my hand, turning my palm rightside up. "I'm gonna get you some more Mederma to put on your wrist. Healin' pretty nicely." Her thumb gently caresses the almost invisible scars on my right wrist. "I love you, Moe. Don't forget that."

"Love you too, mom." I roll over on my back and stare up at her. "You have so many nicknames for me. I don't even know how you keep up." I reach up and touch her strawberry hair. It's thin and a little wispy. My mom is probably the prettiest redhead I've ever seen. "…Tell me the story again. About when you had me…"

She smiles and looks down at me. She grabs her big blue blanket and spreads it across the both of us, gearing up for storytime. I love the fact that Dallas, Madison, Rob and my dad aren't home. It's just me, my mom and Carlo, but Carlo's asleep. I swear, I have the best time when it's just me and my mom. "I was at a cookout at your Uncle Brandon's house. And I kept telling your Aunt Kathy that I didn't want to eat the baked beans, because they made you extremely unhappy and you would kick me from now until the end of time. Well, your dad convinced me to eat just one little bowl of them, and as soon as I ate them, you started kickin' me. Dallas had a really bad case of swimmer's ear, so I was putting her earplugs in, and my water just broke." I love this part. "I went to the hospital, and your good-for-nothing father came two hours after you were born. And hated the name 'Hannah'. And you had really bad breathin' troubles, so the nurses took you from me and put you in the nursery."

"And then what?" I ask, as if I haven't heard this story a million times over.

"Before they took my baby from me, I made it a point to examine you, just so I would know which baby was my baby. And I realized that you had the face of an angel… and I kissed the little beauty mark by your mouth and vowed that that was how I would recognize you." She tucks my hair behind my ear. "And you've always been my beautiful little Demi Hannah Devonne. Dallas hated you, but she got over it."

"Where'd you get the nickname 'Moe'?" I ask.

"Well…. You used to call everyone 'Moe.' You called me Moe, Dallas Moe, Eddie Moe… everyone was Moe. So we just nicknamed you Demi Moe." She shrugs.

"…Mom?"

"Yes, baby?"

"…I've been thinking…." I look down at the ground. "You know how… I always swore that I never wanted to have babies of my own…" I clear my throat. "Well I think I might want to have them eventually. Because I want to be a good mom someday like you…."

"That's great, baby. You can be anything you want to be. You know that…"

"But mom… I think I might want to marry and have babies with Joe. But I can't have babies with Joe… because he can't get girls pregnant." I sigh. "I know it's a long time away to be thinking about having babies… because I still want to finish college first…. But still. It kind of worries me sometimes, because he's the one, I think."

"Well I tell you what, baby." She kisses my cheek. "If and when you and Joe settle down… if it's meant for you to have babies, you will have babies. If it isn't, then you won't. Need I remind you that there are always ways… you know. Adoption… surrogacy… fertility treatments… all that jazz."

"….Yeah." I sigh again. I don't want to admit it to myself, but I really have been considering having kids someday.

But it's still just a thought.

* * *

"So you have a boyfriend? Has it really been that long since we've talked?" Selena lays flat on her back, eating Oreos straight from the container. She dips an Oreo in a jar of peanut butter and shoves it into her mouth. "I can't believe you have a boyfriend, Demi." I make out from her talking with her mouth full.

"It was just really random. Like… it happened so fast. It was so quick." I plunge my spoon into the jar of applesauce and spoon it into my own mouth. "He's real nice, though. He's all sweet and stuff. I don't know, Selena. It feels… weird." I eat another mouthful.

"Does it feel weird because you've never had anyone that cared about you like that?"

"Precisely."

"Own it." She giggles. "I'm happy that you found someone, Demi." She leans over and gives me an awkward hug. "So what's his house like? You said you've stayed there, right? What's it like? Is it real nice?"

"Yeah. It's really cozy and comfortable. He just… I don't know, Selena." I blush. "It's nice. It kind of feels like… like we lived together. I cooked for him… we slept together… it felt weird. like… it felt good." I smile again.

"….Demi. I'm so happy for you." She hugs me again. "…Did you guys have sex yet?"

"…No. and I don't know if we're going to. It's more like… sex isn't important. Though I'd really love to have sex with him. I don't know… I just don't know."

"…Wow." She smiles too, shaking her head in disbelief.

"…Why are you so happy for me, Selena?"

"Because you're happy…" She keeps smiling at me. "You're like… my best friend. And I like seeing you happy…"

"You're my best friend too."

Now if I could only get Selena to leave her douchebag boyfriend.


	18. Crush

"I'm bored, Demi. Let's do something…" Marissa leans forward on my bed and talks directly in my ear. As if her talking and breathing in my fucking ear isn't annoying enough, she smacks on her gum loudly. I take a deep breath to calm down. "Remember how we go play Rock Band when we're bored? Let's go play Rock Band." She suggests. I bite down on my lip.

"In a little while, we can. Just let me finish…" I mean, sure we can go play Rock Band. That's not a problem. But can she at least let me finish what I'm in the middle of? I part Selena's hair to the side and straighten out another piece of it. I'm starting to regret asking them both to stay over. I can deal with Marissa and Selena separately, but collectively, I don't know if I can do this. Marissa and Selena's personalities are so different from each other's, I don't know how to balance them out.

"No, Demi. It's okay. We can do something else. It is a little boring. You can finish straightening my hair another time." Selena stops me. She's been doing this all night; hearing what Marissa has to suggest and just going with it to avoid any potential arguments. It seems like Marissa's been picking fights with Selena.

"Okay, well we can go play Rock Band then. Which instrument do you want to play, Lena?" I turn off my straightener and clean up the mess I have of hair products on my bed. "We have the keyboard, the bass, the lead guitar, drums and the microphone."

"I've never played Rock Band before… and I don't… really wanna play. So I'll just watch you guys. Maybe I'll sing or something…" Selena says timidly. Well, then we don't have to play. I want to be a good host and all, so I want to do something that we can all do and enjoy.

"Then we don't have to play Rock Band. That's fine… I don't really feel like playing that much either, so we can do something else. You guys wanna play Epic Mickey?"

I catch Marissa's subtle, yet very blatant eye-roll. "Whatever." She mumbles under her breath. "So what do you want to do then, Demi?" Her tone suggests heavy sarcasm, as if she really doesn't care what I have to say, she's just asking to get under my fucking skin.

"…Dude, what's your problem?" I match her smart tone. She's really getting on my fucking nerves.

"I don't have a problem."

"Obviously…" I lay the sarcasm on, very heavy.

"…I just don't understand why we have to do whatever's convenient for her…" She rolls her eyes at Selena. I glance over at Selena and notice that she has a very unsteady look on her face. She twists her lips up into a contorted, uncomfortable smile and excuses herself to the bathroom. "You go to college and come back with a new friend, all of a sudden you're like 'Fuck Marissa.' It's annoying."

"Are you being serious right now, Riss? Are you really that fucking jealous?" It's taking everything in me not to slap the taste out of her mouth right now. "She's my FRIEND. You're my friend. You're acting like… like you don't make friends at Berkeley. I'm ALLOWED to have more than one friend, Marissa. Damn. It's not that big of a damn deal. You like… act like you own me or something, just because we're best friends. What the hell is your issue?"

"We've been friends for YEARS, Demi. You hardly even know her, and all of a sudden you have to cater to her every single need like she's a baby or whatever. Like she's more important than me. I guess a few months of friendship overshadows years. You're so fucked up anymore, Demi. You get boyfriend and all of a sudden you think your shit doesn't stink. You meet a new friend and all of a sudden you could give a shit about me?"

"I WISH YOU GAVE A SHIT ABOUT ME! Marissa, Selena…. Selena CARES more. She actually asks me about my boyfriend. You just act all fucking jealous and shit. You're BOTH my friends."

"The only reason you even give a shit about her is probably because you have a big weirdo crush on her or whatever. You don't even talk to me about your boyfriend, I bet the whole thing's a big cover up. You always have something to hide from me, Demi. Like why can't YOU tell me anything? You tell her everything…"

"I DON'T HAVE A CRUSH ON SELENA ARE YOU FOR REAL?!"

"Could have fooled me! You make it SO obvious… it's obvious that you feel so much differently about her than you do about me. You treat us so damn differently."

"….What?" Since I've been friends with Marissa, I've been getting a lot better at reading between the lines. I know what Marissa's trying to say. And I think I know why she's so jealous of Selena. And if I'm right about what I think, then she just took me to a whole different level of pissed off. "Marissa, you are NOT serious. Tell me you aren't serious…"

"Don't make me seem like I'm the bad guy here, Demi." She crosses her arms and pouts like a toddler, looks at me disgusted. "You fucked me over. Not the other way around."

"How did I fuck you over?! Please explain, because I really don't know!"

"You've been stringing me along all this time. It just pisses me off how you can openly act like you have this big crush on her, but I can't even get you to admit to it with me. You've known her for like two months and I've been with you for years, and you're gonna act all buddy buddy, kissy kissy with her first."

"…Marissa, you've got this SO ass backwards. I don't even think you KNOW how ass backwards you are with this!"

"NO, DEMI! I'VE GOT IT PERFECTLY! You're so fucked up that you can crush on me for YEARS and leave me hanging to make the first move, but you meet HER and within a matter of a few months, you have no problem admitting to liking her and acting like you like her. Then you have the balls to lie to me and say that you have a boyfriend?! You're so full of it, Demi. People just don't turn un-lesbian within a matter of days."

"…WHAT are you TALKING about?!"

"YOU!"

"I DON'T LIKE YOU! I NEVER DID!" I shudder just thinking about it. "You were my best friend, I'd never try any shit like that with you! I'm not… I… I'm not attracted to you or Selena! I have a BOYFRIEND. A REAL boyfriend. What… what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"…Demi… don't act like…"

"I'm not… acting like anything, Marissa. There was never anything between us. I don't know… WHERE you came up with that… but you're SO wrong…." I can't believe she would ever think that I would come on to her. I would never. She was my very best friend. I would never, ever, EVER jeopardize our friendship like that. Plus, I don't even find her attractive. "…Marissa… I think…." I bite down on my lip and sigh. "I think you need to go…."

Surprisingly, she makes no noise as she turns and leaves. I really think our friendship has hit an all-time low. And I don't think I care.

* * *

**4:01 AM.**

_Me: Are you up?_

Finally, Selena and I decided to settle down. Neither one of us are too tired, so I just popped in a movie for us until we fall asleep. Selena's busy typing away on her phone, texting Travis, I assume. So I just decided to text Joe too. I won't be surprised if he's asleep already, but I hope he isn't. "You textin' Travis?" I ask her.

"No." She moves around and puts her back against mine. My bed is huge, so I'm not quite sure why we're so close to each other. I don't really mind it, though. "I'm texting the guy I met in my government class. His name's Logan. I broke up with Travis yesterday, I think…"

"You think?" I chuckle. "Why do you "think" you broke up with him?"

"I told him that it's over, and he said that it's not. But I've been ignoring his texts though. I haven't talked to him since yesterday."

"Good for you."

"Yeah." She clears her throat. "Sorry if I caused anything between you and your friend, by the way. Seriously, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Selena. Marissa's a bitch."

"Well that makes me feel better." She nudges me playfully, and we both laugh.

**4:22 AM.**

_Him: Yeah baby, I'm up. What's the matter?_

_Me: Nothing's the matter. I just missed you and couldn't sleep so I figured that I'd text you. lol._

_Him: Yeah, I was having a hard time sleeping too. I think it's cause I got so used to holding you while I sleep. I miss you too baby girl._

_Me: Mehh. I'm so sleepy too. It really sucks. So what are we doing tomorrow?_

_Him: Do you have plans for tomorrow with your friends? _

_Me: Not currently. Selena has something to do with her family, and me and Marissa aren't really talking. So I'm most likely free._

_Him: Oh. Well if you still don't have anything to do by tomorrow, Frankie's birthday party is at the Megaplex down in Daniel County. My parents said I don't have to come, but I don't have anything better to do, so I'm probably just gonna go anyway. _

_Me: Sure. I'll come with you. What time?_

_Him: Party starts at four._

_Me: I didn't know it was Frankie's birthday._

_Him: It's not til next week._

_Me: Celebrating now?_

_Him: It's more convenient. I'll come pick you up at like three. That cool?_

_Me: Yeah. _

_Him: Okay. Try to get some sleep baby girl. _

_Me: I will. Goodnight. Love you._

_Him: I love you too beautiful._

* * *

"So finally, after screaming at me like she had no sense, she basically just told me that she had a crush on me. I didn't know what the hell to do…" I grab a handful of butter mints and put them in the sugar netting my mom spun. "Do you know how weird that is? To have your best friend come out of nowhere and tell you she likes you?"

"I realize how surprising that must have been for you." Mom continues spinning the sugar netting. "Marissa's been your best friend for years though, Demi. Don't you think that you guys should try to talk it out? I'm sure she's just as confused as you are…"

"Probably not. I don't know if I should try to talk to her about it… it's already awkward between us, you know…"

"I know, baby. But I really think that after it dies down a little, you should talk it out. You've been best friends."

"Yeah I know…" I sigh. "And I'm going out with Joe later. To his brother's birthday party."

"That's fine, baby." She hands me more netting. "Tomorrow, I want you to stay in though. I haven't seen you pick up a book once since you've been home. I want you to study, honey."

"Alright, I will."

"Okay baby. And promise me you'll eventually talk to Marissa about it."

"…I promise."


	19. Sleeping

"Why'd you wanna come over so early, baby?" Joe puts his keys on the rack next to his front door and kicks off his shoes. The party doesn't start for another six hours…" He turns on the light to his living room. "And we don't have to go help my parents set up for another four hours."

I take my shoes off at the door too, and take off my jacket. "Because. I didn't sleep well last night, and I know you didn't sleep well last night either. So I was thinking we could take a quick nap before we go…" I explain. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty tired."

"I'm tired too." He walks over to me and puts his hands around my waist. "What'd you eat this morning?" He kisses me on my forehead and rubs my back. Joe makes me feel like I'm the most important thing to him. It feels good.

"My mom made this stuff… 'cause Selena stayed over. She always cooks a big breakfast whenever we have company. She made this quiche stuff. It was like… scrambled eggs, ham, cheese and onions all wrapped up in a tortilla shell thing. It was good, so I'm not hungry. Did you eat?"

"Yeah, I fixed myself something to eat. That doesn't matter, though. As long as you're not hungry." He rubs my arms and looks into my eyes. "Let's go take showers… and then we'll lie down for a little bit. I changed my sheets this morning, so they're nice and clean…"

"I don't have clothes to change into. I can't take a shower, babe. I'd feel weird putting the same underwear and stuff back on…"

"Oh! I forgot to show you…" He grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway and into his spare room. He goes over to the big closet in the corner of the room and opens it. Inside the closet, there are clothes hanging up, in various shades of pinks and light reds. Girly colors. On the shelves are flimsy lace underwear, and the bras to match them. Bright colored socks line up underneath the underwear, right beside a pile of flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirts.

I wrinkle my brow and purse my lips into a hard line. What is this? A closet he keeps all the girls that stay here's shit? There's no way in hell he actually expects me to be happy about this. Big fucking surprise. I'm not putting on other girls' underwear! I don't care if he's washed them a million times over. "…B…Joe. Babe." I try to think of a way to tell him how I feel without flipping out. "I know you were trying to be nice, but I'm not wearing that stuff…. That's… gross."

He laughs, wholeheartedly. I'm not seeing anything funny about this situation. "I _knew_ you'd think the clothes were some sort of collection from other girls. I knew you'd think that, babe." He puts his arm around my shoulder and kisses my temple. "I would never do that to you. Everything's brand new. I didn't even pop the tags yet." He nudges me, urging me to see for myself. "I went on a little shopping spree yesterday. I figured you'd need clothes for when you stay here. So I just bought you some little odds and ends…"

….He did that… for me? Speechless, I walk over to the closet and pick up one of the shirts that's hanging up. It's a plain purple polo shirt. An authentic polo shirt, too. With a dark blue polo logo on the breast pocket. These things aren't cheap. I can't believe he did this for me…

"Can you fit a medium? I was gonna get you smalls, but you're a bit… busty, so I wanted to make sure it'd fit over your chest. If you can't fit anything, it's fine. I have the receipts, I can exchange them. I'm most worried about the underwear and the bras, though." He picks up a black and pink lingerie-like bra and underwear set. "I uh… had the lady at the store help me pick them out. She told me to compare your… boobs to fruits, or something. To get a closer guess to your side." He blushes.

I stand on my tip toes and kiss him on his lips. "Thank you. Don't worry about sizes. Thank you, baby." I kiss him again. "I love you."

He smiles a smile that says that he's proud of himself. "I told the lady that your boobs were closer to cantaloupes or grapefruits. She said you'd probably need a 32-C. Is that right?"

"36-C. You were just a little bit off, but I can fit a 32. I can fit them. It's okay."

"Of course, if you'd let me actually see you without a bra, I could judge better… then maybe I would've gotten the size right." He mumbles. "You won't even let me see you in just a bra, but you'll walk around in your underwear… where is the logic?"

"Because…" I stomp my foot playfully. He's right. I will walk around in my underwear faster than I'd walk around in my bra. I have my reasons.

"I think the lower half is a bigger deal than the top half though, babe. If I've seen you in your underwear, why can't I see you in your bra?"

"Because!"

"Be honest, Demi. What's the big deal? I'm gonna see your boobs sooner or later, aren't I?"

"Not if I can help it."

He shakes his head. "So you'd let me see down below before you'd let me see up top?"

I nod.

"WHY?!"

"BECAUSE!" I start laughing. This is so awkward. "Because I already know that I have a pretty crotch. My cat is pretty. It's shaved and stuff…and it's pretty. But my boobs are so ugly…they're hideous."

"I bet they're not ugly. I don't really care how they look. As long as they're bouncy and soft and big, I don't care. And yours are all of the above."

"…Isn't there something on your body that you're real insecure about?" I hit him with that. "My insecurity just so happens to be my boobs. They're ugly."

"What makes them ugly then?"

"….I have…" I look down at the floor. "My nipples are pink, okay? And they look weird…. they're lighter than my skin and it's weird. And they have stretch marks on them. They're so ugly…" I shake my head. I can't believe I'm having this conversation. "My cat on the other hand… I mean… I take good care of it. I wax it and shave it in between waxes. And I have a tattoo…"

"YOU HAVE A TATTOO ON YOUR PUSSY?!" His eyeballs get so big they nearly pop out of his head.

I cringe. I hate the "P" word. It's such a dirty word. "….Oops. That slipped. No, I don't have a tattoo on it."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Demi, I HAVE to see it. What is it?!"

"No!" I start laughing again. "This is so weird. I'm not showing you my tattoo…" Nobody even knows about it except Dallas and my mom. My mom nearly had a heart attack when she saw it. She thought it was the trashiest thing she's ever seen. I wasn't even supposed to have it. "Only like two people have even seen it. I got in so much trouble when I got it…"

"Why'd you get into trouble?"

"Because I got it when I was seventeen. My sister signed off on it. My mom was PISSED when she found out… she didn't tell my dad about it though, because he would have served my ass on a silver platter. My mom thinks it's trashy." I untie the drawstrings on my sweatpants and pull them down. I lift up my t-shirt a little bit, exposing my black and white cheetah print underwear. My belly ring slides out from underneath my shirt. "Here. Now shut up about it." I pull down the left side of my underwear, exposing my hip and the skin JUST before my vagina actually starts. It's more of a pelvic-bone tattoo. I look down at the tiny pink butterfly with hearts as its wings. I still don't regret it.

"…It's not trashy. It's hot…" He licks his lips at me. "I swear, I have the hottest girlfriend ever. " He kisses my neck.

"….You're not off the hook." I kiss his neck back, in retaliation. "You bugged me just to see my tattoo… don't I get a sneak peek at anything?" I slide my hands up the back of his shirt and trace my hands along his back muscles. I don't know much about sex with guys… but I think Joe has a nice gripping-back.

He smirks. "I'll find some way to return the favor." He puts his hands underneath my butt and lifts me up, bracing me against his chest to give me a kiss. "Let's go take showers now."

"You smell so good…." I press my lips against Joe's, sucking for a moment on his bottom lip. He smells like Axe and men's deodorant. I love just cuddling with my babe. Especially after we've both showered and we're in clean sheets. This is the best. I tangle my legs between his and kiss him again. This time, he's the aggressor. He kisses me hard.

"I love you." He pulls me closer to his bare chest. It's so dark in his room from the curtains that we can't even see each other's faces. But it's okay, because all we need to know is where each other's lips are. His fingertips trace my back.

"I love you too." I put my hands on the rims of his boxers and play with the elastic. Maybe I'm a tease, but I love the temptation and resisting the urge to pull them down to release what's behind them. His fingers make their way to the spaghetti straps of my cami. "I don't want to go to sleep now…"

"You need to sleep, babe…" He grabs my leg and puts it on top of his. My underwear rise up slightly when he does that. "I'll still be here when you wake up. And you'll be here when I wake up…" I bring my hands up to his hair. His hair is so thick; I tangle my fingers throughout it and comb through it with them. He puts his head on my chest.

"I like waking up to you…" I say.

"I like waking up to you too, baby…" He rests his head on my chest and I keep playing with the elastic rim of his boxers. I close my eyes, attempting to fall asleep. I slide my hands further into his boxers. I rest my chin on top of his head and keep my hands in his underwear, where they're warm. He doesn't seem to mind that I'm touching his butt.

I can feel that he has a really hairy butt. It's soft and fuzzy. I think it's cute. I rub his bare butt with both of my hands, smoothing the hair down on it. I inhale deeply, taking in his scent. His hair smells like shampoo. I turn and put my cheek on his head. He lies still against my chest. Maybe he's asleep. I gently pull some of the hair on his butt then smooth it back down.

All of a sudden, he moves his hands up to the straps of my tank top. He brings his head up to be face to face with me. He lowers his face down to mine and kisses my lips. I grab more hair from his butt and play with it. He really is like my baby. I rub his butt some more. He lies face down in my chest.

His breath tickles the crease that my boobs form as he breathes in and out. I close my eyes again. I'm so tired, but I can lie here and just cuddle with him forever. I don't want to give this up for sleep, just yet. He puts his fingers on the neckline of my cami and pulls it down. I let him go, only because it's dark and he very probably can't see the ugliness that is my boobs.

I feel him move my hair away from my chest. He gives me soft, wet kisses on the tops of them. I bring my hands up and rub his hair again. With a few swift movements, he unsnaps the buckle, and my breasts spill out of my bra and into his hands. He keeps kissing the tops, working his tongue into the rotation as he swiftly takes my bra and throws it to the floor. He pushes up and looks down at whatever he make out through the darkness. He kisses my lips again. He kisses from my lips to my neck and back down to my boobs.

Quickly, he cups my right breast in his hand and works the left one with his mouth. The only sound in the room is coming from the wet sucking noises his mouth his making. I close my eyes tightly and chomp down on my lip. My breathing goes unsteady. He uses the flattest part of his tongue to make a trail across my chest from the left one to the right. His hand now works the left while his tongue occupies the right.

With lightning quick speed, he uses the very tip of his tongue to flicker across my nipple. I blow out a hard breath, coping with the pleasure. "Ahh…" A low, almost inaudible moan finds its way through my lips. I grab handfuls of his hair tight, then release. Against my leg, I feel him get solid. The feeling's mutual as I acknowledge the slimy wetness lining my groin through my underwear. This is too much for me… I don't know if I'm ready to have sex with a boy.

He plants two soft kisses on my breasts and pulls away. Can he read my thoughts? "…Goodnight, baby. Have a nice nap. I love you." He fixes my tank top, stuffing my boobs back inside it. "I can't go further with you, babe. I love you. I love you so much. That's why I can't. I want it to be special for you." He kisses my cheek and lets me lie on his chest. "Because you're special to me…" He whispers.

"I love you too." I close my eyes. It wasn't much. Just a little of second base, when I really want to go all the way with him. I like how he goes a little bit at a time. God, I really do love him. And in his arms, I fall fast asleep.

* * *

"Hullo?" My voice comes out hoarse and raspy, filled with sleep. I close my eyes and hold the phone to my ear weakly, with my right hand. It's been a very long time since I've slept that hard. I can't believe I just knocked out like that. I yawn and stay still, trying not to wake Joe up. He's still fast asleep. I'd be sleeping too if my phone ringing hadn't woken me up.

"Did you just wake up or what?" Dallas's voice is so loud in my ear. If I could reach through the phone and slap her, I would. There's no need for her to be so loud. "If you just woke up, I'm sorry. Where are you?"

"I'm at Joe's… and yeah I just woke up." I yawn again and reach down to rub Joe's hair. "We're taking a nap…"

"You're sleeping with him?"

"Not like that…" I yawn once again. I'm still exhausted. "What do you want, Dal?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were coming home tonight. Mom and Dad have to go down to Riverview, and Rob's thing is tonight. So I need you to watch Carlo at like… ten. I'll pay you…"

"Dal, you know you don't have to pay me. I didn't plan on coming home tonight, but I will. I'll watch him. What time will you and Rob be home?"

"Well after the ceremony, there's a little dinner party, so I don't know. No later than two or something. What time do you want me home?"

"It doesn't matter, Dal. I gotta go, though. But of course I'll watch him. I'll be home at ten to get him. Make sure you leave a car seat or something, just in case I go out to grab something to eat. Alright?"

"Alright. Thanks Dem. I'll talk to you later."

"Mhm…" I hang up the phone and put it on the pillow next to me. I rest my hands on Joe's head and close my eyes again. I love sleeping with Joe. I think I've grown to hate sleeping alone.

"Mmm… morning, baby." Joe pops his head up and kisses me on the lips. "How'd you sleep?" He puts his head back down on my chest.

"I slept okay." I smile at him.

"Good." He smiles back and kisses my lips once more.

"…How'd you like your pre-nap…. snack?" I blush slightly, remembering it. It's still pitch-black in the room, but my eyes are so adjusted that I can make out some of his facial features in the darkness. Part of me hopes that he wasn't able to see them in the dark. I think it was a little impossible for him to see them, but then again, if he couldn't see, how was he able to know where to put his mouth?

He chuckles softly. "It wasn't satisfying or anything…" He puts his hands on my stomach and slides them up my shirt, his fingers curling on my waist. "But it was pretty damn good." His hands go up the curves of my waist to my chest. He cups them in his hands and kneads them. "I don't think they're ugly…" He rolls over and lies on top of me. I shift my weight, allowing him on top. "They feel fine… look fine, and taste fine to me." He smiles.

I roll my eyes playfully. "You're my boyfriend. You're supposed to say that." I put my hands back down his boxers and rub his butt again. "Besides. You haven't seen them in the light."

"What is it with you and my butt?"

"I think it's cute."

He shakes his head and kisses me on my neck. "We should probably get up and head to the party. My parents really need help setting up…" He pauses briefly, then resumes kissing my neck. Underneath my shirt, his hands squeeze and massage my boobs. I

"Then you should stop feeling me up so we can get dressed…" I don't want him to stop, though. I'm close to begging him not to stop. I actually want to go all the way. But I don't want to be late for helping his family. "No matter how bad I want you to keep going… we have to stop." He sighs, defeated. I kiss his forehead.

He takes his hands out from under my shirt and gets out of bed. "You're right. My parents would rip me a new asshole if I didn't help them set up." I get up and out of the bed too. He turns the light on, finally. I'm really not sure how I got so lucky. I have the hottest boyfriend, ever. I stare at the black cross tattoo he has on his bicep. He's sweaty, so it glistens and looks ten times more attractive. He walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist. "What are you looking at, beautiful?"

"…Nothing." I put my hands on his arms. "Will I be meeting any of your friends at this party?" I ask. If I'm going to meet his friends, then I'll dress better. I like to make good first impressions.

"A few of them, yeah. The majority of my friends are the ones I get deployed with, so they're all home with their families. But you'll meet my friend Sam and his brother Michael, because their little sister is friends with Frankie. And you might meet Luke if he decided to bring his daughter."

"Have you told them about me?"

"They know I have a babe. I blew them off a couple times to be with you, so they know about you. I've just never showed them pictures of you or anything."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have pictures of you. You're a pretty private person, baby. You won't accept my Facebook request. Your Twitter is private and so is your Instagram. And you won't accept any of my requests." He laughs. Oh goodness, he's right.

"Oooh… I'm sorry." I grab my phone. "I'm not really a social network kind of person. I hardly ever check any of that. My bad." I open up my Facebook and look into my requests. Sure enough, he requested me. I accept it, close out of the app and do the same for my Instagram and my Twitter. "There. You're following me and stuff now." I open up the camera on my phone. "But let's take a picture. I need one for my lock screen."

He shakes his head. "You're too much. I hate pictures. But anything for you…" He puts his arms back around my waist. "You don't mind me being shirtless in it, do you?"

"No." I fix my hair and make sure it falls just right. I probably look like shit, but oh well. It's for my eyes only, so I don't care. Joe kisses my cheek for the pose. I stick my tongue out and wink one eye and snap the picture. I look at it after I take it. I actually love it, and it's rare that I like a picture on the first try. "You want me to send it to you?"

"Yeah." He lets me go and grabs his own phone.

"Okay." I send him the picture through an iMessage. "I'm gonna go get dressed now." I put my phone down on his dresser and head to the spare room with my new closet. Since I'm going to be meeting his friends, I want to dress pretty, yet casual. I flip through the hangers. I grab a purple polo shirt and a pair of dark blue jean capris. I take the clothes back into his room. He's gone, but I hear the water running in his bathroom, so I know where he is.

I take my shirt off and strap on my bra that he threw on the floor. I swear he bought me a bombshell from Victoria's Secret, because this bra makes my boobs look fake. When I look down to adjust the cups, I notice a small, purplish mark near my nipple. He gave me a hickey. HE GAVE ME A HICKEY. My mom's gonna kill me if she sees it. "JOE!" I yell his name and stomp to his bathroom. "Do you think you could NOT do this?!" I pull the cup down just slightly to show him. He giggles with his mouth full of toothpaste. "NOT funny! I'm gonna get hammered if my mom sees this!"

"I'm just markin' my territory." He spits his toothpaste out and rinses his mouth. "I'm sorry babe. I didn't realize I was sucking hard enough to give you a hickey. Does it hurt?" He reaches his hand out and touches it gently.

"No! I'm gonna be so dead if my parents see this…" I look in the mirror to see how easily it will be to cover it. Okay, a shirt will cover it. "I'm not mad at you babe…. But I'm so dead if my dad sees this. If my mom sees it, she'll tell my dad and my dad will KILL me." I push on it. It turns colors but assumes it's purple color back when it fades. I keep looking in the mirror. "JOE! OH MY FUCKING GOD!" I move my hair slightly, and as if my body wants me to get into trouble, another reddish-purplish mark is on my neck. "I'm soooo dead… I'm dead. I'mdeadI'mdeadI'mdead. I'M DEAD."

"I'm sorry…" He touches the one on my neck. "I'm really sorry… I'll help you cover it… or something. I'm sorry." His fingers brush against it lightly. "…Are you really going to get in trouble? I mean… you're eighteen. And they let you stay over my house…"

"Yeah, but…. My dad is really old-fashioned. He's gonna flip out on me…" I grab some of my hair and hide the hickey with it. "He thinks hickeys are gross. He thinks they're slutty…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I was sucking that hard. I really am sorry…"

"It's fine. I'll just…" I keep piling my hair to hide it. "I'll tell him I got punched in the neck at Frankie's party. He won't ask questions…" I completely cover it. "Or I'll tell him Madison shot me in the neck with her BB-Gun. She'll get a spanking, but that's better than me getting in trouble. Because when I get in trouble, I get a heavy dose of "You're tearing this family apart!""

He laughs at that last part. "…And what about the one on your boob?"

"My dad hasn't seen me naked since I was like five. And if my mom asks, then Madison shot me twice."

"I'm still sorry."

"It's fine." I turn around and go back into his room. I pick up my phone to see what time it is. It's 3:30 in the afternoon. And it's Wednesday, December 18th. And I have one Instagram notification. I unlock my phone and check the notification. "adamjosephj mentioned you in a post!" The notification says. I'll kill him if he put that picture of us on Instagram. I really will. I tap the picture to see which one it is.

It's a black and white picture of me in my little black bathing suit and sunglasses. My hair is in big, bouncy curls and there's a palm tree in the background. It's from summertime when I went to the beach with Marissa. Why did he post this? I read the caption he put. "WCW my babe xodemilove." It says, complete with the lip-licking emoji. He made me his Woman Crush Wednesday. Aw. He already has 103 likes on it. I got 277 when I posted it in August.

I read some of the comments. A girl commented with the emoji with heart-shaped eyes. A guy commented and said "Damn."

I guess what's left for me to do is wait.

Wait until Monday.

Because it's only fair if I make him my Man Candy Monday.


End file.
